The Snake of Birds

Volume Two

Tortured souls yearning to be free

Lost thoughts escaping me

running towards your light

laws don't make it right

Hold out your dreams, to the snake of birds

with a twisted head it speaks in forgotten words

'find your own path' was what it had said

giving me the wine, the blood of Royal Dead

taking the virgin sacrament to his bed

and a King is born within his head

Where is this untraveled path

the fortune of life to be had

where are the pillars of gold

and the tombs of the old

giving up your dreams from the past age

realizing the false hope, as time turns another page

Death can be a blessing, to a life spent in pain

Death can be the release, for those who are insane

Life a warm blanket, those desprate few try and fake it

struggling just to let go

a void in their life, a vast hole

praying desprately for their soul

Where is my eulogy, my Funeral song

why am I here, if my birth was so wrong

Why do I breath, if my esistance is mocked

Celebrate my death, by how I lived

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