Antonio D'Alfonso's verse is sans the ornaments or relics of mercy. He is anything but frugal with his wrath or passion. He explores human instinct and feeling, and presents them for the delicate beasts they are. There is little, it seems, in this world which is above contempt or incapable of beauty. His words are the filigree of intricate truths and their challenge. Accept the truth and the vision may leave one writhing, bruised. Bitterness and love, both carnal and spiritual, are the avengers in the void. The fine art of torment. Like crystal words in a world of glass. -- Hollie Watson
No man is free/ till he is chained/ by love; but love/ has not such chains.