Narrow passages, caving in on the gulf,
it's time for the redirecting of the systems.
A calm little prayer sooths the envious soul,
blanketed by the compassion of the winds.

It's a dim inner core of manhood, losing sight,
but not yet fooled by the mistresses of faith.
Livelihood and unforgotten tales bring a feeling,
a feeling of resistance, loved by all that is hate.

Empty fields represent the hiding place for the weak,
a place of high plant life that is used as your fortress.
A year goes by and the same old devil waits,
singing you the song that defies its own chorus.