Seven relentlessly tentative scribes,
Elders that failed their beliefs are all lies;
Thirteen treacherous spider-bite lives -
Arachno-salvation grabs hold of my ties;
I'm the creator, the sinner, the plight,
I have found solace in my right hand's knife;
He was a back-road to circumvent time:
A word on a page in a righteous play-write.

I am timeless, timeless...

All of this brought back my crimeless disguise,
Disfigure perception to become the wise.
Keep the sheep blinded, confused, petrified,
and endlessly longing to peel back the sky.

I am timeless, timeless...

Do you want to see my face?
Just use your imagination:
I exist only in pages,
written by the hands
of the desperate --
dead.