Here within these pages lie a silver bullet between the eyes. A grim reminder clouds are only tombstones in the sky. In the graveyard of memories there are ghosts that still fly. Like vultures overhead waiting for dreams to die. Haunted by the questions that have no reply. Monuments with their stoney faces stand alone and cry. The Grim Reaper and Cupid in their coffin lie. Waiting to be resurrected by the readers who wonder why. I expect the unexpected to catch you by surprse.
