Hate Is Like A Swordfish, Working Through

Maybe Someone Will Know I Didn't Weave Crowns To Draw Blood; That I Faught Against Mockery; That I Did Fill The High Tide Of My Soul With Truth. I Repaid Vileness With Doves.

As Slippery As Smooth Grapes, Words Exploding In The Light Like Dormant Seeds Waiting In The Vaults Of Vocabulary, Alive Again, And Giving Life: Once Again The Heart Distills Them.

All Paths Lead To The Same Goal: To Convey To Others What We Are.

Absence Is A House So Vast That Inside You Will Pass Through Its Walls And Hang Pictures On The Air.

I Believed That The Way Passed Through Man, And That It Was From There That Destiny Had To Emerge.