This Sorrow Weighs Upon The Melancholy Souls

Mankind, Why Do Ye Set Your Hearts On Things That, Of Necessity, May Not Be Shared?

O Mortal Men, Be Wary Of How Ye Judge.

Midway Upon The Journey Of Our Life

Without Hope We Live In Desire.

Now You Know How Much My Love For You Burns Deep In Me When I Forget About Our Emptiness, And Deal With Shadows As With Solid Things.