In scarlet fields where fallen angels sleep: A ground upon which mortals dare not tread, Where moves the image of the fallen man Who holds the star within his hand Beneath the shadow of a darkened sun: Intoxicated by the wine of life We slumber through our days of emptiness And blindness and forgetfulness. Within the fire of awakening: There lies the core of my triumphant self. A spark ignites a freedom greater than all life, My mystery profound. Upon the altar where the chalice stands: Where coils the serpent round its offering Of knowing and of sight, the power to transcend Beyond the tyrant's throne.