"Et tu Brutus?" The heavens sighed
My soul was cast to depths united,
Where angels fell, with wings unmade,
'Twas her who held the serpent's *****

She called me forth to her dark bed,
Where shadows whispered of the dead.
I was the Lion, fierce and wild,
She was the lamb, a fallen child.

Yet in her eyes, no soul I found,
But voices that in madness drowned.
How dare she rise where angels weep,
And through my heart her poison creep?

The Mind, a storm, gate of fire,
Where Heaven's breath and Hell conspire.
The ancient ones, they wept and spoke,
Of mankind's curse, its sacred yoke.

My soul, no beast of earth's domain,
I cast aside the primal chain.
"Though art no man, but God's own wrath!"
The stars cried out along the path.

"Et tu Brutus?" the stars repeat,
As serpents coil beneath my feet.
'Twas she who struck with heaven's *****,
In innocence, my soul betrayed.

The rolling guilt in fiery flame,
The ancient war, the endless blame.
I stood as Satan's child reborn,
In light and darkness both I'm torn