Consumed by overwhelming guilt and diminishing wit
Trying to climb out of the burning, melting pot
Keeps failing at trying to reach for the edge
So much so that he'd rather sit at the bottom and rot
"There's only one way for your ship to sail again, wait for the times of high tide"
"Servant of the Merciful, think not twice of His mercy" they say
But he feels a compelling presence of Lucifer by his side.
Led astray by the circumstances he's been bred in,
He feels lost even after his ship's out at sea
Feelings of sanguinity cease to exist from within
But there is a wave of utopia destined for him, that he can barely foresee.
Slowly but steadily, he's carried by the waves towards a glimmer
A glimmer of light he seems to perceive as a place where he can dwell;
But he does not know whether he's approaching the light, or just forever sailing parallel.