The Quivering Of Psyche's Butterflies.

Lift Up Our Eyes To You? No, God, We Stare And Stare, Upon A Nearer Thing That Greets Us Here, Death, Violent And Near.

There Is No Man Can Take, There Is No Pool Can Slake, Ultimately I Am Alone; Ultimately I Am Done.

Sing And Your Hell Is Heaven, Your Heaven Less Hell.

We Are Voyagers, Discoverers Of The Not-known, The Unrecorded; We Have No Map; Possibly We Will Reach Haven, Heaven.

You Will Not See That Desire Begets Love, Until It All Flames Into One Concise And Metallic Blaze.