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DragonKore

  • The Fourth

    As mortars and M80s cracked their sonic whips in the miles of city stretching from border to border, people celebrated whatever they felt like. An excuse to get wasted and ...

    3 min read
  • Numb

    Chills. Gooseflesh. I sit here in this unknown place, blank thoughts stumbling through my mind. My vision is dark, my fingers too cold to feel anything but the burning sting. ...

    4 min read


Pain is filtered in a poem so that it becomes finally, in the end, pleasure.
— Mark Strand