He followed the river He walked with the trees The goal of his journey To the source of the stream Alone he would shiver Along with the breeze Chasing the memory He caught in a dream There's a place in the sky where the gods lie in slumber Waiting to be released They say that they'll grant him the gift of an answer Awakening them from their sleep He carried a passion A burning desire to know This quest of obsession Would drive him into the unknown No rest would he get as he trekked to west Racing the sun to the peak Enduring the test for a question of purpose Hoping to find what he seeks Standing at the heel of the mountain of dreams Staring in awe of the feat Facing the challenge that towered before Telling himself, it's not as hard as it seems

He raised his hands up to the sky As if to praise the the Gods above Reaching for their blessing now In case they deemed him worthy If what legends told were true The time had come for him to prove That there indeed exists an Answer to the age old question Grasping down against the rock He starts to scale the treacherous wall Knowing that if he should fall The truth would be forever lost Determination in his eyes Kept his burning hope alive Feeling colder as he rises Inching closer to demise Climbing on For countless suns Far beyond Into the unknown Raised himself Above the clouds Entering The heavens Searching for The holy ones Seeking out A purpose Crying out An empty sound "Why were we Created?" No response He screamed aloud "Why are we Forsaken?" He threw his hands Up in disgust And cursed this Revelation Abandoning His faith at last And cast himself From heaven

Just like Icarus In his carelessness Flew too close to her Lost his wings and burned Just like Lucifer In his selfishness Refused to bow so He was cast out from the sky to Fall, falling to the ground To the surface of the Earth where you belong The price to pay for seeking out the Gods Your punishment to contemplate your thoughts As the landscape grows Stretching out below Drawing closer and closer Till he could smell the flowers As he hits the ground Crash against the dirt His body crushed above But the soul kept going On, falling through the ground To the center of the Earth where you belong The cost of playing with forbidden knowledge Banished to this bastion of nothing

Through the Earth Beyond the ancient layers over which we stand Forged by time A relic of the ages that have since passed To the core Crashing through the mantle he arrived at last His final hour No living man has ever walked this path Through the halls This final destination that we call hell The Underworld More of a desolation than the stories told Not a sound No pits of fire, no tortured screams from tortured souls Left alone The only demons here to haunt him were his own Through the inferno Or so he had expected when he first arrived This hollowed Earth Turned out to be colder than the winter's night If this was all He'd rather have been buried than to be immortal Or better yet Preferred to never have been born Through the end Just a room with nothing but an empty throne If God is dead Then surely out of boredom Satan must have followed So he sat Claimed it for a moment to reflect and rest In this trance He noticed he was frozen to the throne Through the course As if he were a king without an audience Accused himself Played the role of jury, judge, and execution Chained to the wall Servant of the vices that gripped his mind A puppet's doll Master of an empty realm, slave to nothing Through the quest The only thing he wanted was to ask a question Reached too far Arriving at an answer that he couldn't grasp Now instead Given an eternity to ponder what was left And introspect Maybe he'd discover something from himself Through ages of despair Something had occured to him, a realization Struggling with his fears In his judgement, he never really tried to stand Now pardoned from the chair The part of him that led him here surrendered as he Finally prevailed In this victory the answer he desired was revealed He made himself a fool As Suddenly it dawned on him the origin of fate An obvious conclusion For what is destiny but that which you choose to create? No longer enslaved Now he called himself the master, both God and Satan In control of his own way With the power in his hands, he rose to stand

He woke by the river Surrounded with trees Tuning his senses To the sound of the stream Thoughts of the mountain He set them at ease Sat by the water Finally at peace