To the light, in the halls of the dead
I was brought through a winter shed
and the eve of amendment was near -
I stood mute where the winds appear.

Of a truth in electrical beams
the words broke, yet a world it seems
where a lugn spoke the spikeness of frost
blew anew by the everlost.

And the face
of redemption
stood ablaze
in my mouth,
and the ways
through exemption
lay in haze -
no way out.

But beled by the trail bled my ghost -
we would tread through its innermost,
then he turned, and his tongue burned in fear;
"only lies make the smoke eyes clear."