This so-called poem picks-up where Poe's "The Haunted Palace" left off ... the tortured pains are the eyes and the pathways are neural ... the emitted and evoked turbulences of acute psychosis.

Russell L. Smith
BRACE Character Profile

A woman found her grandfathers diary and self-published it in an obscure little book a century later. The man was twenty when he began chronicling his adventures. He has long since passed but his words remain, reminding us that even words scribbled in a book by the light of a campfire can continue beyond the one who wrote them.

My dreams usually contain snippets of the day's adventures (or mis-adventures, thereof). They have, of late, been about trying to solve coding problems or some such, and hardly worthy of placing in my dream journal. Every so often, however, I have a dream that is... well, let's just say... different. And such was last night's dream. And I awoke with this poem (in the raw) still echoing in the corridors of my mind...