A need I’ll never surpass
A crossfire through the mind
Of mortality’s men

By day a mere phantom
By night a beast
An impassable ghost
That plagues
That thieves

A devious fog
The scourge of the young
The quieting of the mind
The coil, the decay

Lost logic must scream
In a raft of misdeeds
For the southern-bound fools
Who ravage
In the heart of their faulted peace