In a dusty magic orchard, my soul lost its worth.
Where a garden of poison fruit called from the Earth.
There, A tree stood. It was beautiful. It was dark.
But when the glare from the moon revealed me to its bark,

It's branches took hold. I knew I was ensnared.
Ripped out my intentions, as dust filled the air.
Its trunk overtook me, no matter my strain.
As I was trapped in a euphoria, divine... and insane...

Beyond the veil of roses we know of the thorns,
That Deception, omnipresent,...