So Bright The Tear In Beauty's Eye,

Truth Is A Gem That Is Found At A Great Depth; Whilst On The Surface Of The World All Things Are Weighed By The False Scale Of Custom.

Twas Twilight, And The Sunless Day Went Down Over The Waste Of Waters; Like A Veil, Which, If Withdrawn, Would But Disclose The Frown Of One Whose Hate Is Mask'd But To Assail.

Man Is In Part Divine, A Troubled Stream From A Pure Source.

Like To The Apples On The Dead Sea's Shore, All Ashes To The Taste.

Damn Description, It Is Always Disgusting.