The Raider Wire

Her wisdom sprouted from her like flowers, and I’ve read her grimoires over twenty times each, once for every Amaryllis I’ve laid on her grave since then.

Familiar(s)

Savannah Keith May 7, 2015

Men are drawn to fear. In it they dip their hands, like open ink wells, and they lick hungrily, greedily at the poison coating their nails. In this way, they live. And because of this the unknown stays...

“Sleeping Beauty”

Ballad: Mother Theresa’s Third

Lyndsay Hampton, Poetry Editor December 12, 2013

Life you know is a dream. Oh but how it is to be awake. Things aren’t always as they seem. This is not your truest state. How is it exactly that you have come to being? Which ancestor is the greatest...

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Mysticism