The Only Safe Enemy Was A Headless

Hither Came Conan, The Cimmerian, Black-haired, Sullen-eyed, Sword In Hand, A Thief, A Reaver, A Slayer, With Gigantic Melancholies And Gigantic Mirth, To Tread The Jeweled Thrones Of The Earth Under His Sandaled Feet.

But Not All Men Seek Rest And Peace; Some Are Born With The Spirit Of The Storm In Their Blood.

The Poem You Sent Me Was As Fiery And Virile As Anything You've Ever Written - Or Anybody Else, For That Matter. Especially The Second Part Went To My Brain Like The Flaming Liquor Of Insanity. No One Else Besides Jack London Has The Power To Move Me Just That Way.

I Live, I Burn With Life, I Love, I Slay, & Am Content.

When I Cannot Stand Alone, It Will Be Time To Die.