Follow the snake to that gold lit cave,
Reach to the end of the tavern,
Resting beneath your footsteps, those,
Those, uncovered, holy mystified snow flakes.
The flakes covered by the ashes of thy clouds,
Move until the thought of those souls are freed,
Never resting until we’ve reached,
The castle you build, fast uncovering under your truth.
Breathe in not out, because you are dead,
Fed by the truth of your files,
Lies and truth of the fragile path,
Path you chose to ride by your self.
Never lost on to those screams of the seen,
Me eyes have always wanted to gleam,
It won’t bite unless you have tasted,
Tasted the last fruit of your unfound insanity
No one will ever call out to you, your name,
It’s just the beginning of the end,
Follow me, don’t lead me,
Because in the end you will always fall,
As the path you will choose will always hold you down.