The People's Awe And Innate Fear Will

Obedience, You Know, Is Good Luck's Mother, Wedded To Salvation, They Say.

Happiness Is A Choice That Requires Effort At Times.

So In The Libyan Fable It Is Told That Once An Eagle, Stricken With A Dart, Said, When He Saw The Fashion Of The Shaft: With Our Own Feathers, Not By Others' Hands, Are We Now Smitten.

But When Once The Earth Has Sucked Up A Dead Man's Blood, There Is No Way To Raise Him Up.

Watchful Are The Gods Of All Hands With Slaughter Stained. The Black Furies Wait, And When A Man Has Grown By Luck, Not Justice, Great, With Sudden Overturn Of Chance They Wear Him To A Shade, And, Cast Down To Perdition, Who Shall Save Him?