Just by way of explaining some of the prose fragments you find in this blog…
Heav’n has no rage, like love to hatred turn’d, Nor hell a fury, like
Heav’n has no rage, like love to hatred turn’d, Nor hell a fury, like
Here I am chilling, perched on top of a magenta pole, at the edge of
Today I flew over whatever is left of that neutral zone that was once set