Do you recall the lives asunder?
What of these empty toils?
Will they seek to bind them to the heart and mind?
In tales and song
To string and bow
For the ceaseless hunt
Of string and bow
Two paths as stark as Day and Night
As one in purpose
And naught but dust to the wind
They may be bound to legacy
But bear this revelation
They will not recall the memory
The Wyrm grows to its own brood, endlessly consuming
The fool believes it and makes his choice
I have seen the writhing of the snake
I have walked
I have seen
Ascend, Ascend, Ascend