One flickering light guiding an voyage to the end.
Ominously dancing above the heads of men as wax drips upon the holders brow.
Ordinary in every part of its being, but obliviously these men will defend.
Trekking furiously; every second counts.
Their path? For righteousness as their time sheds to the ground.
The flame grows dim and some men begin to air their doubts.
The flame grows dim and some men begin to air their doubts.
Cannot turn back, but afraid that with all their energy, nothing will be found.
Just a few obstacles left between them and glory as the last morsel of guidance is melted.
Swallowed by darkness is the fate for these men.
Lost, as their lives dripped away to never be seen again.
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