We trust tea leaves and arrows
To guide the way
Under starless skies
We chart the course
Through these
Altered states
Bound for glory
Born on the path to misery
Constantly questioning
We begrudge
The gift of lucidity
Empty as a velvet glove
Without the iron fist
Fragmented visions
Give rise
Astral projections
Frozen in time
Conjure patterns
On the cusp of completion
With each step we stray
Further from the light
As the trail branches
We press on with no end in sight
Pyramids reduced to cinders
Arrange my bones into hexagrams
Equal parts past and present
The future sits on the tip of your tongue
Waiting to be sung
Into existence
The end will be justified
When we manifest our destiny
Dawn the gown of stinging nettle
Accept the crown of tangled antlers
Take up the reins of the one-wheeled chariot
The hanged man's feet trace figure eights
Spellbound and gagged
Hair stands on end
Warble and writhe
Swallowed by the sun
One thousand points of light
All merge into one
Look on your work and despair