THE CALL OF CTHULHU complete film...Nicely done as though a 1928 silent expressionist work with good music... it used some of my art... the other 4 parts access at player bottom when a segment has finished...
Realized I may have not mentioned a relevant women of depth, Savitri Devi, her work at http://www. savitridevi. org/lightning-contents. html (and also in spanish), I like connecting women of depth with women of depth...
-GATEWAY- Cracks form within space, stars deform to dark gates, through such madness lears, laughing past human fears. Weblike wings beating the air, as tentacles embrace heirs, false was this mankind time, pretend virtue practice crime. More than stars beget this end, for within us results depend. by Harold Arthur McNeill.
Greetings, a recent poem borne of the sleepless hell where I often dwell... Beast witches, Harold.
-PEARLS- Every true moment, is but a pearl on the crown of eternity, savor each without fear, for only the stones endure. If duration were measure, rock not rose we'd treasure, but knowing far more, we can partake of flowers beauty. by Harold Arthur McNeill.
Your aspiration is your motivation, your motivation is your belief, your belief is your peace, your peace is your target, your target is heaven. Life is like hell without FRIENDS. Thanks for being my friend ..leave a message in guestbook .again thanks www. fyahwyah. com
Greetings, a recent poem below you may like, able to do art recently without feeling false...hope you are well... Beast witches, Harold.
-INTENT- Yesterday I met a rare dragonfly's grace, that followed me as have cats and crows, for my love of them... Realize that all life, from fly to man, recognize true intent, sincerity thus opens doors so undreampt. by Harold Arthur McNeill.
-TEARS- When bombs fell to create hell, upon a land so daring to stand, against creeds of sad greeds, murdering the dreams of man. One man walked who truly talked, to a last room sadly forsaken, and by his hand tragically, died. All saying hate created this fate corrupted, lied. Now the world may die because he was denied, thus my tears for the Leader. by Harold Arthur McNeill.
