I must enter into the enchanted forest.
Venture in at my own risk.
For there are thorns throughout to make a man bleed.
And we must now bleed. 
They will cut straight through any foolish skin.
So is now the time for me to go charging in?
Wary of the spellbound contest, into which I would progress,
For I am in search of a witch, that has already confessed.
 
Into the woods we must go,
Not to chase or hound, but sow, 
To the save the very soul that could bring us down,
Denouncing the devil that teases the spurned around.
A Reaper against the insatiable appetite of lustful yearn. 
Not a place we must go and burn.
For salvation is in a gentle love, 
And not to be confused by being in awe of.
 
So God your eyes are dark today,
And those that are blue seem too far away,
A man with green eyes can still be an angel,
Whilst the hazel fight their war unable to see the devil.
And into the woods I now go,
With a sword of words and a shield you now know.
A man not disillusioned with life at all,
Ready to save their souls before they fall.