Men have numerous deep desires,
Scorching their hearts all in fires.
Spreading, spreading the soul around,
Until they cannot even hear a sound.
Blazing passions, burn in their eye,
Goals to accomplish before they die.
Burning, burning the boy's spirit,
Taking a lost dream in order to sear it.
Another ones pyre guides his way,
Until they have the thought to say.
“You don't get to select my craft;
I choose my own specific path.”
So the escort begins heading south,
After opening its flaming mouth.
“You must no longer have need of me, ...