Hidden inside the eye which sits upon a thrown
With its hardened cocoon covered in cobwebs
Sleeps a seed so soundly
Preserved and as old as fossil bone

The waters of truth long forgotten to its knowing
Dirt dry, despite the dampness of dark
Laboring for light lost in lucid illusions
As if consciousness cared not where it was going

No sprouts for no sun
What words would will a withering wonder
Fast, frozen fountains too far and frigid to set it free
Perhaps there is only One

Hope remains in power of sound
If not the rays of reflection nor the run of river
A boom to break the bottled beacon
Through the golden ground of the crown

Risen from core below, descended from sky above
Hell and heaven halt here in his heart
Say, what sweet song shall sow said seed
By God it's the music of love

- Kaiel