A wilted stem, I can bear no weight
With every gust I slowly break
There is no hope that I can see
The path ahead is for the dead.
There is no road, the way is shot
Overgrown and under-tread
At once reclaimed and long forgot
The path ahead is for the dead.
Detritus of the cracking leaves
Is a never-stemmed riptide
That pulls us ever farther down
This path ahead that's for the dead.
At every turn I'm glancing back
Have I walked this path before?
I hear the Styx hit blackened shores
Just on the dying path ahead.
How can I be so truly lost
On what was once familiar ground?
This used to be the long road home
And now I don't know what's ahead.
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