In Every Tyrant's Heart There Springs In

For In The Voyage Of The Heart, There Is A Freight Of Hatred, And The Wind Of Wrath Blows Shrill.

Once To Die Is Better Than Length Of Days In Sorrow Without End.

I Warn The Marauder Dragging Plunder, Chaotic, Rich Beyond All Rights: He'll Strike His Sails, Harried At Long Last, Stunned When The Squalls Of Torment Break His Spars To Bits.

Many Among Men Are They Who Set High The Show Of Honor, Yet Break Justice.

But Let The Good Prevail.