The Bitter Past, More Welcome Is The

This We Prescribe, Though No Physician; Deep Malice Makes Too Deep Incision; Forget, Forgive; Conclude And Be Agreed; Our Doctors Say This Is No Month To Bleed.

I Kissed Thee Ere I Killed Thee. No Way But This, Killing Myself, To Die Upon A Kiss.

Supposition All Our Lives Shall Be Stuck Full Of Eyes; For Treason Is But Trusted Like The Fox, Who, Ne'er So Tame, So Cherished And Locked Up, Will Have A Wild Trick Of His Ancestors.

Dream In Light Years, Challenge Miles, Walk Step By Step

Hell Is Empty And All The Devils Are Here.