What Good Is It To Live A

Beyond Age, Leaf Withered, Man Goes Three Footed No Stronger Than A Child Is, A Dream That Falters In Daylight.

For Somehow This Is Tyranny's Disease, To Trust No Friends.

It Is Always The Season For The Old To Learn.

When A Man Dies, Flesh Is Frayed And Broken In The Fire, But Not His Will.

Obedience, You Know, Is Good Luck's Mother, Wedded To Salvation, They Say.