As I peer into the depth of tranquility
Through spiraling mist and towering flame
Obsidian rings become clear to me
And from that path a voice screams my name
Split ears screech with deafening tones
Clenched jaws grind enamel away
Eyelids seal with blow torch glows
A wretched figure commands me to stay
The old hag beckons
Now chained to her will
No choice but submission
Is her job to kill?
Visuals glow with frenzied pace
Dry throat leaves a bitter taste
Constricted lungs begin to fill
With laughter from her shrouded face
A haggard cloaked manifestation
Of a hypnagogic delusion?
Or supernatural intervention
The likes of which we dare not mention?
Disembodied mind!
Limbs contract while sinew steams
Upon the groans of joint-less bones
Fear-gripped heart begins to beg
For release from the tyranny
Of the hag at the end of my bed
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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