Do Not Be Merciful, But Be Just,

Like Sheaves Of Corn It Gathers You Unto Itself. It Threshes You To Make You Naked. It Sifts You To Free You From Your Husks. It Grinds You To Whiteness. It Kneads You Until You Are Pliant. And Then It Assigns You To Its Sacred Fire, That You May Become Sacred Bread For God's Sacred Feast. All These Things Shall Love Do Unto You That You May Know The Secrets Of Your Heart, And In That Knowledge Become A Fragment Of Life's Heart.

Only When You Drink From The River Of Silence Shall You Indeed Sing.

There Is A Desire Deep Within The Soul Which Drives Man From The Seen To The Unseen, To Philosophy And To The Divine.

When A Man's Hand Touches The Hand Of A Woman, They Both Touch The Heart Of Eternity.

The Human Heart Cries Out For Help; The Human Soul Implores Us For Deliverance; But We Do Not Heed Their Cries, For We Neither Hear Nor Understand. But The Man Who Hears And Understands We Call Mad, And Flee From Him. Thus The Nights Pass, And We Live In Unawareness; And The Days Greet Us And Embrace Us. But We Live In Constant Dread Of Day And Night.