strange-gods: the winds are his hands, and he weaves the years and hours like grass

strange-gods: the winds are his hands, and he weaves the years and hours like grass

LucieWildeIsRetarded Lucy_Vixen

Strange-Gods: Those Who Sleep Will Yet Heed The Word, Calling “Hail, You Darkness!” And Rise Up Again

Strange-Gods: His Voice Cracks Like Old Stone In Deep Places, And His Sounding Raises Up The Worthy

Strange-Gods: Ye Clothed In Smoke, Thou Shalt Never Perish

Strange-Gods: Ye Crowned In Storms, Thou Shalt Never Perish

Strange-Gods: Ye Risen From The Vulture’s Beak, Thou Shalt Never Perish

Strange-Gods: Ye Called To The Gulfs, Thou Shalt Never Perish

Strange-Gods: Study For Work In Progress

Strange-Gods: The Mighty Must Yet Go Fettered Into His House, What Rides Aback The Snake

Strange-Gods: The Silent Watch- In Four Partscommissioned Work

Strange-Gods: Arisen, O Joyous Specter, To The Conflagrated Wheel

Strange-Gods: A Black Dog, Who Made The World A Wilderness

Strange-Gods: Keeping The Hands Busy. Larger Ideas Are Lurking At The Edges, Filthy And Starving, Waiting To Drive Their Woolly, Matted Tentacles Into My Fevered Nervous System.

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