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To Roam The Endless Plains

The Firstborn

I am now the raging fiend
Riding the wings of a frozen wind…
For the horizon beckons me forth.

Wanderer - without perception
Wanderer - without direction

Is it my fate, to roam the endless plains?

A dead world blazes behind
A dead world burns in my mind
And the flesh with it…

A spirit of the steppe
I became ethereal
I perpetuate digression
And the illusion
Of ascension…
In circles dimmer and dimmer…

To find, one must know what to search…