To think that wisdom sets you free—
A grand delusion, blind.
Decay rules all that you can see,
And chains the sharpest mind.

Too wise? Then you won’t bear the sight
Of rot in every breath.
So, fading from the crowd’s delight,
You'll wait alone for death.

This world’s a prison, cold and grim,
Where days and nights decay.
Yet soon the Flames will burn the dim
And wipe the filth away.

The sun now shines with growing might,
Its blaze will end this Hell.
Yet Darkness writhes in bitter fright—
The Serpent knows it well.