The Secret Must Be Kept From All

And That Inverted Bowl They Call The Sky, Whereunder Crawling Cooped We Live And Die, Lift Not Your Hands To It For Help-for It As Impotently Moves As You Or I

Think Not I Dread To See My Spirit Fly, Through The Dark Gates Of Fell Mortality; Death Has No Terrors When The Life Is True; 'tis Living Ill That Makes Us Fear To Die.

Be Happy For This Moment. This Moment Is Your Life.

We Are In Truth But Pieces On This Chess Board Of Life, Which In The End We Leave, Only To Drop One By One Into The Grave Of Nothingness.

In Monasteries, Seminaries, Retreats And Synagogues, They Fear Hell And Seek Paradise. Those Who Know The Mysteries Of God Never Let That Seed Be Planted In Their Souls.