Light Threatens, Is Active, Is Gone, So

Dance Until The Earth Dance.

A Slight Wind Shakes The Seed-pods My Thoughts Are Spent As The Black Seeds.

The Race May Or May Not Be To The Swift, But Tell Me, Is It Likely That The Fight Will Be Entrusted To The Dead?

When The Shingles Hissed In The Rain Incendiary, Other Values Were Revealed To Us

Thoth, Hermes, The Stylus, The Palette, The Pen, The Quill Endure, Though Our Books Are A Floor Of Smouldering Ash Under Our Feet.