Through the bitter blades of winter's wind he flies. The sweeping of his thick, ebony wings echo through the vast emptiness, finding my ear. It whispers the lie once again to tighten the chain of which I'm bound. But the long and twisting roots of my soul are fastened deep to the rock which holds all truth. Truth that promises the rain. It is coming to rust and corrode my chain of deception. Your same deception, in which you are unaware, because he, with thick ebony wings is beside you, feeding and clothing you in the pleasures that are poisoning your own soul.
