Trapped inside a mongrel's mind, twisted, turning, lurid, divine Aimlessly wandering halls, dimly lit by candles on the walls where spiders like to sit where I come across a case wooden and dusty filled with books neatly spaced the spines filled with foreign words and stood up by tigers either mis-colored or rusty
Examining the books with gentle care when something caught my eye's corner with a glance to the left and with great rise was the grand spiral stair, where splayed meekly on the rise of the walls was the blood of men and a statue of great size A serpent, fangs dowsed in rustic red blood and tail curled around with eyes beading above seemed to smile with a large bulge along its golden belly With shudder I wondered what beast sated the statues hunger
My feet, frozen in wonder of serpents message did not venture forward as my eyes read the ****** paint For, as my eyes gazed at the dried blood, I noticed sound so faint Drip. Drop. Drip. Down the rail of the grand old stair dripped water onto the marble floor, puddling there And in the pool of the water, a message did reflect The symbols were foriegn, yet I read them anyway How, I couldn't suspect and who could say Even as I muttered the words I backed away in respect
*This is the easy way to heaven, or so say the men where holywater's bestowed But this is where the Serpent herds his devon, You may climb the stairs, but down his throat you'll go