No Trust Is To Be Placed In

Who Love Too Much, Hate In The Like Extreme.

Yea, And If Some God Shall Wreck Me In The Wine-dark Deep, Even So I Will Endure… For Already Have I Suffered Full Much, And Much Have I Toiled In Perils Of Waves And War. Let This Be Added To The Tale Of Those.

Even Were Sleep Is Concerned, Too Much Is A Bad Thing.

We Battle On In Words, As Always, Mere Words, And What's The Cure? We Cannot Find A Thing.

The Blade Itself Incites To Deeds Of Violence.