The Human Race Finds Itself

No One Thinks Of How Much Blood It Costs.

Thou Shall Know By Experience How Salt The Savor Is Of Others' Bread, And How Sad A Path It Is To Climb And Descend Another's Stairs.

I, Answering In The End, Began: 'alas, How Many Yearning Thoughts, What Great Desire, Have Lead Them Through Such Sorrow To Their Fate?

Do Ye Not Comprehend That We Are Worms Born To Bring Forth The Angelic Butterfly That Flieth Unto Judgment Without Screen?

The Heaven That Rolls Around Cries Aloud To You While It Displays Its Eternal Beauties, And Yet Your Eyes Are Fixed Upon The Earth Alone.