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(C) Copyright SNOWbear Productions. T h a n k Y o u F o r V i s i t i n g

TNA Contines to get polished

I wrote a poem years ago, and after dabbling on it here and there it continues to grow out of control. THE NEPHILIM AGE has become a complex epic, with detailed layers and characters I never originally envisioned.
It's a tale of elves leaving Middle-Earth, who became the vile nephilim murders told in a story from a father to his daughter; all deciphered from ancient scrolls discovered in the last century. A little crazy maybe, but it's a story of depth I can't quiet get out of my head that grows with each new rewrite. You might find it interesting, feel free to tell me what's in need of fixing.

Death and Dying


A How To...
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle Autumn's rain.
When you wake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.

Pagan, Christian, and agnostic alike, [know]... that
these words expressed the "right" things at the death of a much-loved person.


But to be born again, you must die

Christ Myths

The Paganistic origins of Christianity run deeper than you know. Even its most basic notion of the resurrection of the devine was borrowed from the Pagans; Blessed Be!

VENTURE INTO MY WORLD

VENTURE INTO MY WORLD
The Watcher's Book of Books