War Is A Fevered God Who Takes

One Flower May Slay The Winter And Meet Death.

Luminous, Unfearful; High-priestesses, Our Fervour Shall Banish All Evil.

Ah Love Is Bitter And Sweet, But Which Is More Sweet The Bitterness Or The Sweetness, None Has Spoken It.

The Quivering Of Psyche's Butterflies.

Take What The Old-church Found In Mithra's Tomb, Candle And Script And Bell, Take What The New-church Spat Upon And Broke And Shattered.