I Am A Poet Who

He Was Gentle, Like A Man Mindful Of His Own Strength. In My Dreams I Beheld The Kings Of The Earth Standing In Awe In His Presence.

I Wash My Hands Of Those Who Imagine Chattering To Be Knowledge, Silence To Be Ignorance, And Affection To Be Art.

Death Changes Nothing But The Mask That Covers Our Faces.

What The Soul Knows Is Often Unknown To The Man Who Has A Soul. We Are Infinitely More Than We Think.

We Are The Sons Of Sorrow; We Are The Poets And The Prophets And The Musicians.