Thieving hands that live to steal
Seconds and hours
From the face of time
Trail away broken bits
Of love
And hope
Despair too
All tinged with silver stains
And it would seem I am the host
They all mix in me
But that thing which weighs most
Is the silver shining free
Following
Stories by Brian Tranagra
Assorted Poetic Musings and Rambli...
A compendium of my poems. I just needed to put it out here at this point. It's less for you, the reader, as...
Gone
A psychological horror story about a police detective's investigation into a rash of murders perpetrated by a...
Rigged from the Start
Just another man walking aimlessly around the city. To any casual observer that's all he looks like, but a c...