It calls your name,
From the darkest corner,
Beckons you over,
From the depth of your emotion.
As you travel,
You sense your conscience grow warmer,
And as you arrive,
The sequence gets longer.
A shower of multitude rains down,
Mirrors the many speaking,
The awaken softens your frown,
A lifeless object it's beacon.
The guarantee is not a guarantee,
The cruel irony sets in,
The rebirth not delivered to me,
Just the guide to share the sin.
