Stride The Corridors Of One's Mind

Bishop Of Hexen

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    A story about a story told before...
    Questions to answer and no answers to a question asked before

    What advantage does a man have as he labors all his life under the sun ?
    As the wind lashes and time evades
    Forth comes the wind circles and goes forth back again...
    To nurse or planet an orchid only to remain with seeds again to built, and harvest thin air...
    Carried away by spirits carried away...
    Perennial pain, night tears, rain and the sun in her place again
    Places unknown to man, and man who don't know their place
    Carried away by the spirits, carried away...

    The dead son of the dead
    No memories of the first and the last leaves no memory
    The wise is buried aside the fool
    A generation comes and withers away and the land forever standing

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    The end is set, and so is the beginning
    Rather die as a lion, then live as a dog
    Rather go with a blast, and then fade to the fog
    To dream all night long, and awake at a bog
    Evil feeds on good, who breeds evil again

    Saw the dance insane
    Saw slaves on horses (and lords on foot)
    Riches turn to hay
    Minds and bone decay
    I saw flesh burning!
    The mortal coil-rendered into ash
    Oh all statues stoic, but hide a brutal demise
    The days of long since past... and old I have become
    All that was promised has turned to dust
    Hymns and prayers have come to pass
    Subdued and addicted, so perplexed, alas!
    And man within the mind's corridors-lost

    Saw the sounds and heard the sights
    I've seen the sounds, and I've heard the sights

    Nothing matters but myriad moments of grace...

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