Let the dark doubt that is dear to me be driven downward.
Melt my clouds of sadness, illuminate my feet to the right path.
Where do I walk?
Among mortals, among the blind, among the living, and among the dead, through the vale of unbroken promises, and away from the mountain of shattered dreams.
Mirrors draw the portrait of morningstar heat, of the shrouded past break through the mist to fill in the apparition of what is seen.