Dusty rooms with broken locks , that open on Styx river's docks . Acquiescent and serene , the broken shards of endless dreams lie shattered on the quay .
Hyenas prowl , and vultures lurk , while ravens collect shiny baubles , and far across the tumultuous waters stands the devil's majestic hovel . A house of cards all full of light that speaks of vindication , while capturing self righteous minds with human degradation .
Such a tentative position man , a flash of light on desert sand . Yet to the endless sea of time , a tortured wretch in pantomime ?
To mock the Gods with books of lore , that delineate tomorrow's shores . With so many right and so few wrong , the devil weaves a simple song of perfected ostracizing , while social stigmatism's blind becomes its own creation , to tie the hands and feet of all and shadow our perception .