“Your friend is there
Within the walls...

Never forget those you have killed
Never avert your eyes from death...

It is the fate of the kind
If they wish it to be...

Eros had said
That him, I would dread...

Once for the witches rabbit hole
And twice for the foxes hymn...

Mother
Mother...

The size of our suffer
Is relative to each other...

Heaven said to me it missed
Then asked from me a tender kiss...

Child are you grieving
To words she is leaving...

If they talk they talk after one
But all the nails in his socket were gone...

I love a quiet boy
For him I pine, I long...

How do you love the empty air
For it seems as though it does not care...