At the pinnacles of right and wrong, where life is changed and paths are drawn,
When your thoughts are surrounded by the hardness of stone,
And intertwined with small traces of gold,
Don’t lay on the rock and feel the cold,
Burn away all that traps and treasure the gold.
Those small shining pieces are what holds the truth,
The solid fixtures of wisdom and proof,
The only part that may bring you through,
In the darkness and chaos of all the paths you drew.