Beware the Pit of arrogance
Belief will snare the weary traveller
Opinion, isolated in the snowy hills
or basking in arid desolation,
will clean the bones of innocent souls
Scorn the echelons of hypocrisy
who's dungeon chains would turn to rags
the finery of any noble mind
Forgive the questions,
sight, sense, thoughts.
Observe the path lit by everything you know
Shall we go there?