Still To The Sufferer Comes, As Due

It Is The Nature Of Mortals To Kick A Fallen Man.

When We Sleep The Soul Is Lit Up... By Many Eyes, And With Them, We Can See Everything That We Cannot See In The Daytime.

Old Men, What Are They? Fast Fading The Leaf, Three-footed They Walk, Yet Frail As A Child, As A Dream Set Afloat In The Daylight.

But When Once The Earth Has Sucked Up A Dead Man's Blood, There Is No Way To Raise Him Up.

There Is No Pain So Great As The Memory Of Joy In Present Grief.