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Cassus Animus

  • The Invisible

    I walk this road, I walk this road. Alone in travels, travels. The light does not show, does not show. I'm escorted to the gallows, gallows. Invisible? Not today, nor ...

    • Poetry
    • Lyrical
    2 min read
  • Oh Lord'

    Look at how hard I tried, seeing everyday how you pry. Shadows creep the walls with what if's, the blood on my fist settles this end. Tapering the strings attached ...

    • Lyrics
    2 min read
  • Glimmer of Red

    This pain drives me, strikes me, hides me! I see this red, glimmer of the dead, everything has been said! I hope you can run, I will help you be ...

    • Lyrics
    2 min read


It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill —The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another.
— JRR Tolkien