Remorse Is Memory Awake.

Pardon My Sanity In A World Insane

A Word That Breathes Distinctly Has Not The Power To Die

So Instead Of Getting To Heaven, At Last - I’m Going, All Along.

Each That We Lose Takes A Part Of Us; A Crescent Still Abides, Which Like The Moon, Some Turbid Night, Is Summoned By The Tides.

Other Courtesies Have Been - Other Courtesy May Be - We Commend Ourselves To Thee Paragon Of Chivalry.