His Descent Was Like Nightfall.

And Not A Man Appears To Tell Their Fate.

A Boy Without Mischief Is Like A Bowling Ball Without A Liquid Center.

Goddess Of Song, Teach Me The Story Of A Hero.

His Native Home Deep Imag'd In His Soul.

Why Have You Come To Me Here, Dear Heart, With All These Instructions? I Promise You I Will Do Everything Just As You Ask. But Come Closer. Let Us Give In To Grief, However Briefly, In Each Other's Arms.