Heaven Suits The Back To The Burden.

When Death Strikes Down The Innocent And Young, For Every Fragile Form From Which He Lets The Panting Spirit Free, A Hundred Virtues Rise, In Shapes Of Mercy, Charity, And Love, To Walk The World And Bless It. Of Every Tear That Sorrowing Mortals Shed On Such Green Graves, Some Good Is Born, Some Gentler Nature Comes.

The Ocean Asks For Nothing But Those Who Stand By Her Shores Gradually Attune Themselves To Her Rhythm.

And I Am Bored To Death With It. Bored To Death With This Place, Bored To Death With My Life, Bored To Death With Myself.

Charity Begins At Home, And Justice Begins Next Door.

Change Begets Change.