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Key, to unlock the mind...
Decorated soul, ancient and golden.
Then, the feathers burn,
And you've seen the Earth, afar.
Now you are.. what you are not...
Fallen, to the sky?
And no-thing can unwind,
The spells of this wine.
So.. you dine with the grey beast,
And share his chalice..
Dwell, in his wives' silver palace..
And how you know---
The weight, of their arts...
The depths, of their seas..
The distance, of time,
From your state of being,
Until the Earth shall be.. no more,
Than a word...
And the world will be reduced,
To the seed...
And your exhales--- books,
For none to read...
For now you bear the horns,
And the Kingdom.. is yours.
You lift your left hand,
And the stars, beg for mercy...

by Vitholf of Fanisk

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