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