Mine own troubles art s'rrowful yet f'r the sake of clandestine loveth. F'r h'r sake, the moon glistening on h'r luscious corse and h'r hair, a flowing riv'r of a million golden droplets. Is't w'rth t? breaking the law f'r this treason? breaking an unbound fath'r’s trusteth? shatt'ring anoth'r man’s glass heart f'r mine own selfish reasons? on the oth'r handeth, mine own loveth f'r the betroth'd is a thousand winds fighting one stem of wheat. Unbreakable.
I, lysand'r, might not but venture to the woods. Tonight, i shalt unleash the beautiful beast which roams in mine own heart
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