The talking trees, they run above.
A blinking eye, spilled bottles of light.
A bowl of truth, that’s all I ask –
and give me more, a light for the darkest of times.
Sometime ago, they just got stuck
Gods, powerless – betting
who falls furthest down.
The crossroads are deadly, for those who don’t choose.
Rising from the mist,
The lady of the lake
She hands me a sword,
Reveals the end/To stab myself with.
what a straightforward life.
all is black and white.
I led myself here, it smells of sin
Of madness and fear,
Bit of wonder