Wandering paths, meandering doors
what lies beyond this city of ******?

Which do I take, where will it lead
to another slave town filled with prisoners of mead?

They've lost their mind of magic to refuge
but the meaning of life has yet to deluge.

Enter your shelter of safety with no fear
lacking in spirit which I hold to be dear.

A clone of the mix with nothing but tricks
you're easy to pick so quick to predict.

Small talking of lies to find common ties
repeating whats heard never dreaming with eyes.

Closed to your soul, the folly of old
wasting away for your fools gold.

Fearing the risk of patience and time
ignoring the climb to reach the sublime.

When will I see, how will I know
will I ever let go for my ego to grow?