Syncretismic Expressionism. Might become Eclectic.

Had several names. Ever-evolving like the wind of whispers.

These are for my fellow poets. Please read them while playing slow melancholic music, in phrygian mode. Locrian at times.

May there be a time, long after my organic body has since rotten, that a young poet stumbles upon our work and finds himself. Merging with the past - reappearing. For we may rise again.

Thank you, everyone. For showing me your corners. May all that your being yearns be brought upon thy path.


Ulda, Werdandi, Skulda.
☼ ꊏ ☾

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