1. 1

    I Shalt Become - The Serpent Song

  2. 2

    I Shalt Become - Black Swan Events

  3. 3

    I Shalt Become - Cleansed

  4. 4

    I Shalt Become - Doubt

  5. 5

    I Shalt Become - Leaving Watership Down

  6. 6

    I Shalt Become - Paintings In A Gallery

  7. 7

    I Shalt Become - Winter Lights

  8. 8

    I Shalt Become - A Once Great Man

  9. 9

    I Shalt Become - A Ritual Killing

  10. 10

    I Shalt Become - Absolve Me

  11. 11

    I Shalt Become - Acid Lights

  12. 12

    I Shalt Become - An Atteridgeville Horror

  13. 13

    I Shalt Become - Beggar's Belief

  14. 14

    I Shalt Become - Burning

  15. 15

    I Shalt Become - Denial

  16. 16

    I Shalt Become - Dreamscapes

  17. 17

    I Shalt Become - End Time

  18. 18

    I Shalt Become - Enigma

  19. 19

    I Shalt Become - Enstasy (The Theory Of Maxwell's Demon)

  20. 20

    I Shalt Become - Fragments

  21. 21

    I Shalt Become - Ghosts

  22. 22

    I Shalt Become - Harlow's Vertical Chamber Apparatus

  23. 23

    I Shalt Become - Her Demons

  24. 24

    I Shalt Become - In Absentia

  25. 25

    I Shalt Become - In The Falling Snow

  26. 26

    I Shalt Become - Insects

  27. 27

    I Shalt Become - Labyrinthine

  28. 28

    I Shalt Become - Like a Lamb to the Slaughter...

  29. 29

    I Shalt Become - No Quarter At the Somme

  30. 30

    I Shalt Become - Our Children Die

  31. 31

    I Shalt Become - The Casket Letters

  32. 32

    I Shalt Become - The Corpse In The Forest

  33. 33

    I Shalt Become - The Finest Cut of the Scalpel

  34. 34

    I Shalt Become - The Funeral Rain

  35. 35

    I Shalt Become - The Lost Man

  36. 36

    I Shalt Become - The Swarming of the Locusts

  37. 37

    I Shalt Become - The Tragedie Of Macbeth: Actus Quintus, Scena Quinta

  38. 38

    I Shalt Become - These Cold Desires

  39. 39

    I Shalt Become - Thorns

  40. 40

    I Shalt Become - Want

The Tragedie Of Macbeth: Actus Quintus, Scena Quinta

I Shalt Become

"To tomorrow, to tomorrow, and to tomorrow
Creepes in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last Syllable of Recorded time:
And all our yesterdays, haue lighted Fooles
The way to dusty death. Out, out breefe Candle,
Life's but a walking Shadow, a poore Player.
That struts and frets his houre vpon the Stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a Tale
Told by an Ideot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing."

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