Work Is Love Made Visable.

Your Soul Is Oftentimes A Battlefield, Upon Your Reason And Your Judgment Wage War Against Your Passion And Your Appetite.

You, The Strong, Have I Loved, Though The Marks Of Your Iron Hoofs Are Yet Upon My Flesh.

For What Is Evil But Good Tortured By Its Own Hunger And Thirst?

You Are Not Enclosed Within Your Bodies, Nor Confined To Houses Or Fields. That Which Is You Dwells Above The Mountain And Roves With The Wind.

Am I Less Man Because I Believe In A Greater Man?