I used a program called " Art Text " on Apple's Mac OS X Software site. The idea came from watching the animated series " Justice League Unlimited , Second Season episode " Ancient History ". It took awhile but I think the results works.
At 9:28am on September 20, 2009, chris smith said…
Old but classic poem
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou thinkst thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow
And soonest our best men with thee do go
Rest of their bones and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppies or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke. Why swellst thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die!
At 6:00pm on September 18, 2009, Strangefire said…
Hiya Stranger! I'm back in town after a short East Coast tour with the new band, plus busy with a move to Orlando. Hope you are well and keeping it STRANGE! Look for Strangephyre coming soon to a venue near (or not so near) YOU! For tour dates and upcoming recording news, please check out my blog. We apreciate your support. Til next time...StayStrange! Tak!-)
I live in the inner city, but I do not like Hip Hop. I prefer anything but. I love italian and french food. I drink only imported beer and wine. I'm an ABBA fan.
Stuff I Like..(you can use this space for anything...widgets, video, pics)
Electronica, Stevie Nicks, Luc Besson, Classical Music, Monica Bellucci, Ghost in the Shell ( anime movie & series ), The Long Kiss Goodnight, etc.
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Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou thinkst thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow
And soonest our best men with thee do go
Rest of their bones and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppies or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke. Why swellst thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die!

hi Stranger! linView All Comments