I remember I walked down this road,
a serious boy, a child I’m told.
Clean cut, wanting to save the world,
to the devil’s own I sold my soul.
The trade was simple; quickly done,
power injected, I was a son of a gun.
I shot everyone who dared come close
to the heart of a man that was tomb to a rose.
I clambered up them hills and over and far away;
I ran undaunted, the drug had taken its sway.
Lines grew blurred, my teeth clenched I looked
up into my vision, a smile was all it took.
I knew where I was, whence I came from;
I saw me burning in my own dream’s prison.
‘twas that smile, the wax on the bond;
my boon granted, the price to be exacted to the pound.
I, thinking its a sign, pulled the trigger
at the face staring at me, through the mirror.
I am not sure, maybe I got it wrong;
I am after all another dead son of god.