Stride The Corridors Of One's Mind - Bishop Of Hexen

A story about a story told before…

Questions to answer and no answers to a question asked before

What advantage does a man have as he labors all his life under the sun?

As the wind lashes and time evades

Forth comes the wind circles and goes forth back again…

To nurse or planet an orchid only to remain with seeds again to built,

and harvest thin air…

Carried away by spirits carried away…

Perennial pain, night tears, rain and the sun in her place again

Places unknown to man, and man who don’t know their place

Carried away by the spirits, carried away…

The dead son of the dead

No memories of the first and the last leaves no memory

The wise is buried aside the fool

A generation comes and withers away and the land forever standing

The end is set, and so is the beginning

Rather die as a lion, then live as a dog

Rather go with a blast, and then fade to the fog

To dream all night long, and awake at a bog

Evil feeds on good, who breeds evil again

Saw the dance insane

Saw slaves on horses (and lords on foot)

Riches turn to hay

Minds and bone decay

I saw flesh burning!

The mortal coil-rendered into ash

Oh all statues stoic, but hide a brutal demise

The days of long since past… and old I have become

All that was promised has turned to dust

Hymns and prayers have come to pass

Subdued and addicted, so perplexed, alas!

And man within the mind’s corridors-lost

Saw the sounds and heard the sights

I’ve seen the sounds, and I’ve heard the sights

Nothing matters but myriad moments of grace…