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"The time has come," said the old man. "For what?" asked the boy, standing beside him. "For our greatest adventure yet." "It sounds exciting, but I am afraid." "Dear boy, what is there to be afraid of?" "I have wandered in the wild, fought off evils, and married the damsel I desired to rescue. But now I fear the unknown." "Fear not, for this adventure comes as a gift, not as a peril. And it certainly will not be our last. Now take my hand." The boy took his hand reluctantly, and together they departed. The old man sleeping in his bed drew his last breath.

A Candle lit with faint a flame Shines with glee in the small domain. 'Tis light from whence a comfort came To stay the shades of lonely's bane. It sings to me fiery phrase While dancing with beautiful hues. Never does It cease to amaze As It serves as my faithful muse. Ever It is silent and calm, Until Art cries in full demand For aid in the surging maelstrom Fulfilling genius command. For at length this candle shall burn To accompany woe and joy As page makes its every turn. This candle will never destroy.

April 1st, 2021 My name is Wolfgang Mannus. I am writing now for the first time in over eight years, for it is the first time in that lengthy span that I have found the means to do so.  I've been living a nomadic lifestyle in the land of America: staying in one area, living off the food and drink I find until it's diminished, then moving on to a different area. These areas used to be cities. Alas, now they are husks of their former glory. The skeletons of the buildings decorate the scenery, enshrouded by the slowly dominating greenery of nature. Weeds grow through the cracked pavement, vines entangle the walls of buildings, shrubs and gra

Introduction April 1st, 2021 The Apocalypse. Armageddon. The "End of Days".  I've seen it. I've lived it. I survived it. I would say it's a miracle I lived to tell the tale, but after the horrendous things I've seen, the heart-wrenching experiences I've had to endure, and the toll of struggling to survive, I can say that miracles are nothing but bullshit; a figment of our imagination to create the illusion of a glorious providence on earth. Let me tell you, there is providence, but in no way is it glorious. The providence I saw rendered existence into oblivion by the brutal, magnificent wrath of nature in all its elemental splendor. Provid

Patrick Manno CRW208 4/17/2010 The Hike The sweat glistened on my forehead as I emerged from the cool shade of the tall forest pine trees into the warm, open sunlight. The trail up to this point had been easy-going; being at a steady, flat elevation in the cool shadows of the trees. None of the large jutting roots or rocks imbedded in the trail had tripped me yet, so I was content. As the trail approached the edge of a small lake centered in the midst of tall green drumlins, the trees diminished into shrubs and tall grass; permitting the high noon sun to accompany us. Uncle Jon led the way; his small five foot four figure a few yards

Patrick Manno CRW208 Big Rich I've never met a more obscene person. But meet him I did on that sunny July morning in the lobby of Syracuse's Hancock International airport while awaiting for the flight to Newark. The two teachers of the High School German Club were hosting a trip to Switzerland for two weeks, and though I don't remember seeing him at any of the club meetings or German classes, he was joining us on this adventure. His name was Rich. And he was big. He massed a height of about six feet four inches and was well over three-hundred pounds. He was a football player at our school with a wide figure, a large gut and floppy brea

Books of Flesh By Patrick Manno What are we but bags of blood? Full of life and full of crud Graced with beauty as a mask Rived away when laced with task What are we but frames of bone? Never alike, always alone Strained to keep the form erect Burdened with our own reject What are we but books of flesh? Hard to read, hard to mesh Bound by a spine of skin Pages inked with bloody sin Much is there to read within, In the depths of bloody sin