Fortune came a little late, but will it still favor the brave or the bold?
Too soon to claim it's fate, must not waver, stave off the urge to fold
A boon to be, fortune ate, a last meal to savor, just a slave to the gold
Full moon, worth the wait, the perfect flavor, fresh grave for the old

Waiting pensively for the doors of perception to crack open the realm
Baiting extensively, fore the chores of deception tend to underwhelm
Sense the false security, then grab a knife to slice the heavy tension
Rinse within the purity, waterfalls of life, the price of time's pension

Confiding in the powers that be, evolving to become pro creations
Sliding through the showers, and resolving all the lost translations
Clamoring community and connection, chasing dreams of affection
Stammering an opportunity for objection, facing streams of reflection

The Siren's sounds softly satiate the souls of mortals to keep them full
Hallowed grounds shall await, as we search for portals to a final goal