drowining in a sea of intoxicating beauty,
seeing my soul lift its way through the haunting night,
exotic figures lay beside me,
a glare of strange molds and pure delight.

Seven ways to know the truth,
Seven paths to conquer the light,
a miriad of mirrors sorrounding me static,
confoundig my paths in my search for the past.

A blindfolded seeker who searches within himself,
his hands pointing out, seeking solitude, seeking truth,
just a bashed little compass, which he doesnt trust,
and a pile of old books, pages torn, covers trashed.

A chemical affair he was promised,
a gate to the ultimate truth,
it really does not matter anymore,
because the path has been shown, the legend's already true.

Seek the path old searcher,
Its right in front of you,
i dont promise anything,
just a glimpse of the forgotten truth.