By Alex Fosnaugh What should I give up, And what shouldn’t I give up? You had the Voice of a Siren Lovely sweet melodies Whispers of a time yet to come It was only when, that Voice was taken Away And the sweet melodies faded away into the ether That I was thrust back into reality In the name of the almighty, What should I give up? Drunken lies of my lovesick heart Only fed by withdrawal Can you hear it beg? Do you see the threads of my heart Scattered across the ground Down on their knees? Do...

By Alex Fosnaugh A crow flew wildly into the periphery of my vision. As if he planned it, he uses my surprise to gain easy access to his favorite pecking spot, my forehead. He tugs a bit at the crown wrapped comfortably around my skull. I wildly swat at him for a minute before my stubborn wife, Ailbhe, bursts out into a fit of laughter. One last attempt to best my enemy ends with him flying away. My dear friend, Stolt, is likely finding another victim to pester with his nonsense. "Torvald,...

A poem by Alex Fosnaugh I hope death is kind  I hope that his embrace  Is gentle  Soft, pure  Like how if feels  when your hand brushes my skin  I hope death will carry me  Into the great unknown  Like I'm a gift That his eyes look down on me Like I'm the greatest thing in the world  I hope when he picks me up I can only think of you  Your sweet embrace  The way your hand would squeeze me  if I dared tried to leave I hope he cradles my soul  Like a precious gem  And that he whispers sweet...