climbing, catapulting tremors
shaken dandruff, daily bread
sung down the road in tenor
cry'n out to rest your weeping head

tho' no echo return'd onto your spake
rolls of fog, kings and carrion, alike
no glass to shatter-- no roars to shake
no lonesome heads to rest your pike

loose panic-stricken thoughts therein
'does my crusade here come to rest?
have I deceived myself insane? 
has victory slain me, as the best?'

a mirrored path in nine days march
quiet dreamscapes int'wards press
greeks' cool hell quenches thy brow's arch
y'r fever dream'd unto this mess

into collapse
into collapse
into collapse y'went
into the void y'sauntered
t'ward malign and desolate

you know you'll finally reach the end
painted lines worn thin and frail
where paradise might grow again
what good will steel teeth come in, then?
strong legs stolen from flesh we rend
to end up here, alone, my friend!

you went looking for hell, 
fixing to be kings
and you found it.
a prison of pride.
"for thine is the kingdom of power and glory
forever and ever
amen."