[300x443]
В колонках играет - ramones

One December day Ghost found himself out on Violin Road near the trailer where Christian and the others had lived. The tangle of rosebushes still grew wild in the back-yard, and though Missing Mile was deep in winter, one rose blossomed in the heart of the thicket. When Ghost reached for it, a thorn sank like a tooth into the ball of his thumb. Bright drops of his blood spattered the frozen ground.
he whispered. Again he remembered how the knife had felt going into Zillah's skull.

[195x260]

i heed not that my earthly lot
hath-little of earth in it-
that years of love have been forgot
in the hatred of a minute: -
i mourn not that the desolate
are happier, sweet, than i,
who am a passer by.