Ah, Why Can't I Know

I Have Loved Him Too Much Not To Hate

Flight Is Lawful, When One Flies From Tyrants.

Honor, Without Money, Is A Mere Malady.

You Who Love Wild Passions, Flee The Holy Austerity Of My Pleasures. All Here Breathes Of God, Peace And Truth.

My Death, Taking The Light From My Eyes, Gives Back To The Day The Purity Which They Soiled.