state of free

Pass the brass bridge bare-footed to feel the glass shards intimately, lose your balance and fall to ground like a palace clown- break the fall with your dirty palms, break your bones, be the gruesome begger tripping on your drapes- you cannot escape your fate.
Crawl and choke, don't forget there is no helping hand in the land of fiends, don't forget why you got here and why you need to pass.
Miles and miles to come under the scorching sun that melts the glass and dries your veins, combusts your cries and mocks your schemes.
All you do now is cling to suffer and despair, doubt the reason that got you here.
Fiends begin their festivities- master is almost here.. just outside the mithril gates of Chaos, scratching for his way inside.