The walls of this prison stand -
Solidly built in a world of tribulation
The windows of this prison in demand
Of a firmer foundation
Its roots in the sky above
In a spontaneous cloud formation
Or woven into the wings of a dove
At the end of the road
Looking back
Counting along my way
Fearing the place of collapsing grey
That I had to leave
To follow
Compelled to continue and obey all I believed
Once more I may break the walls
Escape into grey or fade to black
Weakened so that I am forced to crawl
And bear the weight of depraved actions upon my back
In all religion I searched for release
Truth and Revelation,
Ecstasy and peace...
What I have now is a question
Who will I become?
When the obligation to obey becomes my obsession
