Eternal Love Made Me.

Here Pity Only Lives When It Is Dead - Virgil

O You Proud Christians, Wretched Souls And Small,/ Who By The Dim Lights Of Your Twisted Minds/ Believe You Prosper Even As You Fall,/ Can You Not See That We Are Worms, Each One/ Born To Become The Angelic Butterfly/ That Flies Defenseless To The Judgement Throne?

These Have Not The Hope To Die.

The Glory Of Him Who Moves Everything Penetrates Through The Universe, And Is Resplendent In One Part More And In Another Less.

For Where The Instrument Of Intelligence Is Added To Brute Power And Evil Will, Mankind Is Powerless In Its Own Defense.