Growing tired of the void
Sickened by the concept of relinquishing autonomy
The path to enlightenment inclines
Constantly, never giving way to respite
There is no meadow of regeneration
The is The Hill Difficulty
This is the Mount of Worth
There is no spiral path to the summit
There is no other existential meaning greater than the view from the peak
The higher I ascend, the more vague the foundation becomes
The higher I ascend, the greater my view of the cities I left behind
O' God of Obscurity, deliver me into brilliance
Bathe me in the light of the outer-truth
Give me the perception of the Saints and the Exorcists
Carry me to the Summit of Infinity
No voice from the heavens to reply
No hand of the Host to seize me
Only a whisper in the Gale
Ambiguous, but so real
(The greatest struggle begets the greatest catharsis)
Within the throes of absolution
I shed my humanity
I rise beyond angles to the company of Saints
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