Death Is A Sleep That

For Though I Am A Body Of This Earth, My Firm Desire Is Born From The Stars.

To Be Able To Say How Much Love, Is Love But Little.

I Freeze And Burn, Love Is Bitter And Sweet, My Sighs Are Tempests And My Tears Are Floods, I Am In Ecstasy And Agony, I Am Possessed By Memories Of Her And I Am In Exile From Myself.

Hope Is Incredible To The Slave Of Grief.

It May Be Only Glory That We Seek Here, But I Persuade Myself That, As Long As We Remain Here, That Is Right. Another Glory Awaits Us In Heaven And He Who Reaches There Will Not Wish Even To Think Of Earthly Fame.