The term apocrypha is used with various meanings, including "hidden", "esoteric", "spurious", "of questionable authenticity", ancient Chinese "revealed texts and objects" and "Christian texts that are not canonical".
The word is originally Greek (ἀπόκρυφα) and means "those hidden away". Specifically, ἀπόκρυφα is the neuter plural of ἀπόκρυφος, an adjective related to the verb ἀποκρύπτω [infinitive: ἀποκρύπτειν] (apocriptein), "to hide something away."
The general term is usually applied to the books in the Roman Catholic Bible, and the Eastern Orthodox Bible, but not the Protestant Bible on their claim that it is not God's word. As such, it is misleading in this sense to refer to the Gospel according to the Hebrews or Gnostic writings as apocryphal, because they would not be classified in the same category by orthodox believers: they would be classified as a heretical subset of antilegomenae, to distinguish them from now-canonical ancient antilegomenae such as 2 Peter, 3 John and the Revelation of John, and non-canonical but non-heretical books which were quoted by the Early Fathers such as the pseudepigraphic Epistle of Barnabas, the Didache, or The Shepherd of Hermas. The gnostic writings are generally not accorded any status, not even a negative one: they are ignored, as they are incompatible with the accepted canon prima facie. Non-canonical books are texts of uncertain authenticity, or writings where the work is seriously questioned. Given that different denominations have different beliefs about what constitutes canonical scripture, there are several versions of the apocrypha.
Cesare Borgia (Italian pronunciation: [ˈtʃɛzare ˈbɔrdʒa]; Spanish: César Borja, [ˈθe.sar ˈβor.xa]; 13 September 1475 or April 1476 – 12 March 1507), Duke of Valentinois, was an Italiancondottiero, nobleman, politician, and cardinal. He was the son of Pope Alexander VI and his long-term mistress Vannozza dei Cattanei. He was the brother of Lucrezia Borgia; Giovanni Borgia (Juan), Duke of Gandia; and Gioffre Borgia (Jofré in Catalan), Prince of Squillace. He was half-brother to Don Pedro Luis de Borja (1460–88) and Girolama de Borja, children of unknown mothers.
Like nearly all aspects of Cesare Borgia's life, the date of his birth is a subject of dispute. He was born in Rome—in either 1475 or 1476— the son of Cardinal Rodrigo de Lanzol y Borgia, soon to become Pope Alexander VI, and his mistress Vannozza dei Cattanei, about whom information is sparse. The Borgia family originally came from the Kingdom of Valencia, and rose to prominence during the mid-15th century; Cesare's great-uncle Alonso Borgia (1378–1458), bishop of Valencia, was elected Pope Callixtus III in 1455. Cesare's father, Pope Alexander VI, was the first pope who openly recognized his children by a lover.
History repeats itself
Nothing's truely new
What's the point of all of us
Who got this view
The earthly theories fall
Slowly one by one
It has all been said before
All has been done
No matter how much we see
Wee lose the sight
No matter how much we hear
We are never satisfied
We don't remember
All the facts of former times
Who is the member
In the future generation
They are the next - the next generation
The old ones not yet gone
No difference between
So weary and tiresome
It has all been said before
All has been done
No matter how much we see
Wee lose the sight
No matter how much we hear
We are never satisfied
We don't remember
All the facts in former times
Who is the member
In the future generation
No man really knows
It's spoken and is for us
And known with a blameless throught
An unchanged mind
An instinktive delicacy
Of pity for them
To look like a man
Who had been drowned
And filled with sorrow
To look like a prisoner
Who had been set free
Like two voices in a muffled cell
What fine sensibilities
Are touched in such a case
No echoes tell
No Nightmare comes out
It is so and it was so here
This strong and easy custom
Stimulating sense
Of desert or disgrace
Emergency for our race - for ourselves
To look like a man
Who had been drowned
And filled with sorrow
To look like a prisoner
Who had been set free
Over the heads of the crowd
No eyes in the throng could have told
Every weapon that distracted ingenuity
Could discover a device of integrity
Down in depths below
These weapons there I shall throw
No matter how for how far off
The eyes in the throng couldn't move
Who let them out
Whence they have come
Where they bagun to shout
Scored at the end of the game
Against the truth I've told
Is to force a heavy stone
Out of the wrintings in the wall
These are the news from another world
Headlong, mad and dangerous
Footsteps to force their ride
To put stones aside
Pulse and heart held life to sacrifice us
Footsteps not easily blured
Again I'm stained red
Forests of naked arms
Struggled in the air
Who let them out
Whence they have come
Where they bagun to shout
Scored at the end of the game
Against the truth I've told
Is to force a heavy stone
Out of the wrintings in the wall
A shift from ear to eye
Stronger than silence
In a world of damned alliance
A new earth under the same sky
Neurotic aftermath of this Age
Earth beneath
Highest order of abstract thinking
Speech is the medium king
Providing a new orientation for thought
Concrete statement about the world
Made up of seconds and minutes
The authority of nature isn't polluted
Eternity ceased to serve
As the measure and focus of human events
There is a wintry sky
Below us and we dwell
Everythhing is ordered
Called like a spell
Earth Beneath
A shift from ear to eye
Stronger than silence
In a world of damned alliance
A new earth under the same sky
Possession is nine-tenth of the law
Haste makes waste
First comes first served
Serious matters are to be ended
All along the World
The Death carts rumble
Hollow and harsh
All devouring insatiable
Like monsters crush humanity
Fused in one
Imagine since imagination
Could record itself
Grow to maturity
Horrified certainly
Under the guillotine
Into the same tortured forms
It will - itself
The Seven never reserve
They never reserve
Sow the same seed of rapacious license
And oppression over again
And will surely yeld the same fruit
According to its kind
Changeless and hopless
The turmoil rolls along
Deceivers and sourcerers
Conjuration - downfall
The Climax is on fire
Turmoil rolls along the streets
Change this back again
To what they were
Carriages of absolute monarchs
The equipages of feudal nobles
Are scum for themselves
The real negative ones
Approached their end
The ploughs go on and on
No more so tight suspended
The eyes survey the faces
Lucky days seem to be gone
Haven´t had such hard times before
Everything is just like pain
Pure existence - tormentor rules
Can´t believe - I will be back again
Life reduced to react
Empty body without a soul
The realm of
Black Demons - Of sadness reign my world
Black Demons - Fear is all around
Black Demons - Can´t fight against
Black Demons - Darkened my mind
Hope or just illusion
Unable to bear
Search for enemy has succeeded
At war with the past
No use to refuse
Try to fix to the point
Moments of light - quiet few
The realm of
Black demons - Of sadness reign my world
Black demons - Fear is all around
Black demons - Can´t fight against them
Black demons - Supression of evidence
Every day - pure insane
Mercyless attacks
Hit by my own thoughts
Beaten by memory
Daylight shines so bright
But my night hasn´t stopped
Pain even grows
Enter the realm of
Black Demons - Of sadness reign my world
Black Demons - Fear is all around
Black Demons - Can´t fight against