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THE SHADOWS OF IDEAS NOW ARE LOOMING, THE WHEELS OF MEMORY BEGIN TO SPIN
THE PROPHECY OF NUMBERED DAYS CONSUMING, THE FATE FORGED IN THE FLAMES IGNITES WITHIN

THE WITCHERY OF INTELLECT INHUMAN, THE SINFUL LUST TO IMPUGN AND INQUIRE
THE PROPHECY OF NUMBERED DAYS CONSUMING, THE FIRST STEPS IN THE LONELY MARCH TO FIRE

FEAR NOT THE SHAFT; FEAR NOT THE HUNTER'S AIM: INTO THE SPLENDORS OF THE LIVING FLAME

ARMSPAN WIDE AND TENDRILS TRIED, YET NONE COULD STRANGLE TYRANNY OF WILL
HERESY INHERENTLY, FORESHADOWED FINAL HOUR UPON THE HILL

HEART AND MIND AHEAD OF TIME, A ONCE UNQUESTIONED VOID BEGAN TO FILL
PERHAPS THE FIRST TO CAST THE CURSE, A TORCH IN THE DARKNESS STILL

THE SHADOW OF IDEAS HAD NO DOUBT BEGUN TO LOOM
WHEN THE COLD AND BLACKENED EMBERS SET ABOUT TO WARM THE TOMB

THE MOTH BEHOLDS NOT DEATH AS FORTH HE FLIES INTO THE SPLENDOR OF THE LIVING FLAME
THE THIRSTY HEART TO CRYSTAL WATER TRIES, HEEDS NOT THE SHAFT, NOR FEARS THE HUNTER'S AIM

THE TIMID BIRD, RETURNING FROM ABOVE TO JOIN HIS MATE, DEEMS NOT THE NET IS NIGH
UNTO THE LIGHT, THE FOUNT, AND TO MY LOVE, SEEING THE FLAME, THE SHAFT, THE CHAINS, I FLY

SO HIGH A TORCH, LOVE-LIGHTED IN THE SKIES, CONSUMES MY SOUL; AND WITH THIS BOW DIVINE
OF PIERCING SWEETNESS, WHAT TERRESTRIAL VIES? THIS NET OF DEAR DELIGHT IMPRISONS MINE