A Mysterious Fraternity Born Out Of Smoke

A Very Little Boy Stood Upon A Heap Of Gravel For The Honour Of Rum Alley. He Was Throwing Stones At Howling Urchins From Devil's Row, Who Were Circling Madly About The Heap And Pelting Him. His Infantile Countenance Was Livid With The Fury Of Battle. His Small Body Was Writhing In The Delivery Of Oaths.

The Man Had Arrived At That Stage Of Drunkenness Where Affection Is Felt For The Universe.

Do Not Weep, Babe, For War Is Kind.because Your Father Tumbled In The Yellow Trenches,raged At His Breast, Gulped And Died,do Not Weep.war Is Kind.

Let Me Into The Darkness Again.

There Is Nothing- No Life, No Joy, No Pain- There Is Nothing Save Opinion, And Opinion Be Damned.