On the way up

The feast of the gods

I found me in a gloomy wood

In the midway of this our mortal life,
I found me in a gloomy wood, astray

Of courting misfortune

Who knowingly goes into fire,
Or enters wells in full attire,
Deserves his fate should he expire.

We Love You So Much

From Small Minds

Of Vaunting Luck

Who thinks that he has everything,
That Lady Fortunes’s on his sting
Will some day feel Fate’s mallet swing.

Why should I bother?

When it rains

At the start of it all