When the prophet, a complacent fat man, Arrived at the mountain-top He cried: "Woe to my knowledge! I intended to see good white lands And bad black lands— But the scene is grey.

I saw a man pursuing the horizon

Over the river a golden ray of sun came through the hosts of leaden rain clouds.

Sometimes, the most profound of awakenings come wrapped in the quietest of moments.

Doubtless there are other roads.

Let me into the darkness again.

A mysterious fraternity born out of smoke and danger of death.