There Is A Desire Deep Within The

When You Are Born, Your Work Is Placed In Your Heart.

Verily The Lust For Comfort Murders The Passion Of The Soul, And Then Walks Grinning In The Funeral.

Only When You Drink From The River Of Silence Shall You Indeed Sing. And When You Have Reached The Mountain Top, Then You Shall Begin To Climb. And When The Earth Shall Claim Your Limbs, Then Shall You Truly Dance.

Your Joy Is Your Sorrow Unmasked.

Much Of Your Pain Is Self-chosen.