E͢͜҉ŃH̴̢̕À̶Ń̶͝C̡͡E̶͘ME̡N͠T͏̛ Ę̶͟R͘͠ROR̴

The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won,

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captin lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

O Captin! my Captin! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up–for you the flag is flung for you the bugle trills,

For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths for you the shores a-crowding,

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captin! dear father!

This arm beneath your head!

It is some dream that on the deck,

You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captin does not answer, his lips are pale and still;

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;

The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;

From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

Exult O shores, and ring O bells!

But I, with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captin lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

~ Walt Whitman

Happy birthday, sweet captin. You are an inspiration for whatever particular reason. And for that reason we present to you these small tokens… which were forged out of the little pieces of metal in our hearts :’(

With Love from Scott: (click to view)

With Hate from David: (click here to view)
… and NO, it has no audio yet. Jesus…

Puppets to Fate was not the high point in my life. I apologize to all three of you that are viewing this site, for there is something far, far worse out there that is utterly and inseparably close to my little heart.

Watch and be ashamed.