You know, Journal, I frequently find myself, shit. What was I going to write? I had something I was going to write out here, but I can't seem to recall it.
Man, that sucks.
Well, here's a journal update just to keep things well oiled, and so I don't feel like it's for nothing, here's a quickly written poem:
A dawn's meek light shone upon a the earth's face
seemingly dancing to the war drummer's pace
The gallows convoluted
to see a fool's neck uprooted
He'll not be going home
yes, through purgatory shall he roam
It's about a guy dying. I don't know if you knew that or not.