Iron Was Black And Sheenless, But Cleansing

Join The Community Of Saints And Know The Delight Of Your Own Soul. Enter The Ruins Of Your Heart And Learn The Meaning Of Humility.

I Grow Silent. Dear Soul, You Speak.

Lovers Have Heartaches That Can't Be Cured By Drugs Or Sleep, Or Games, But Only By Seeing Their Beloved.

Love Is The Soul's Light, The Taste Of Morning, No Me, No We, No Claim Of Being.

Everyone Has Been Made For Some Particular Work, And The Desire For That Work Has Been Put In Every Heart.