Here Let Dead Poetry Rise Once More

Midway Upon The Journey Of Our Life

We Are But A Day In This World, And In That Day The Fashion Is Changed A Thousand Times: All Seek Liberty, Yet All Deprive Themselves Of It.

It Is Necessity And Not Pleasure That Compels Us.

These Dwell Among The Blackest Souls,loaded Down Deep By Sins Of Differing Types.if You Sink Far Enough,you'll See Them All.

We Have No Hope And Yet We Live In Longing.