Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; When little fears grow great, great love grows there.

When our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors

When spring comes the grass grows by itself.

Would I always feel so small that it hurt and that even the greatest outcry roaring from my throat was, in reality, just a whimper? Would my footsteps always stop so suddenly and sink into the footpath?

Murder's out of tune, and sweet revenge grows harsh

But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,Chaos is come again.