Yet Do I Marvel At

We Were Not Made To Eternally Weep.

For We Must Be One Thing Or The Other, An Asset Or A Liability, The Sinew In Your Wing To Help You Soar, Or The Chain To Bind You To Earth.

The Truth Is... Everything Counts. Everything. Everything We Do And Everything We Say. Everything Helps Or Hurts; Everything Adds To Or Takes Away From Someone Else.

Ever At Thy Glowing Altar Must My Heart Grow Sick And Falter, Wishing He I Served Were Black.

Give But A Grain Of The Heart's Rich Seed, Confine Some Under Cover, And When Love Goes, Bid Him God-speed. And Find Another Lover.