But Fear And The Muse In Turn

This Cruel Age Has Deflected Me.

It Was A Time When Only The Dead Smiled, Happy In Their Peace.

Courage: Great Russian Word, Fit For The Songs Of Our Children's Children, Pure On Their Tongues, And Free.

Real Tenderness Can't Be Confused, It's Quiet And Can't Be Heard.

Natural Thunder Heralds The Wetness Of Fresh Water High Clouds To Quench The Thirst Of Fields Gone Dry And Parched, A Messenger Of Blessed Rain, But This Was As Dry As Hell Must Be. My Distraught Perception Refused To Believe It, Because Of The Insane Suddenness With Which It Sounded, Swelled And Hit, And How Casually It Came To Murder My Child.