Don’t cry my sonDon’t cry, because life is a redeemed fightLife is a fight that will demean the weak personAnd will always exalt the strong ones

Myth, mist, and mystery all add to the illusion of love. If you need me I’ll be by the fog machine wearing a tunic and writing an epic poem in Greek.

They changed their minds, Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell.

Di gran furore si pregna il suo scheletro,bagliori saettano, uscendo e rientrandoda essa come rincorsi durante una fuga.Sembra un dio del cielo, pieno di boria,quando ai mortali si appresta a elargiredoni che celano invero soltanto...