I bow with awe to my many Voices of Self The many faces of my ordeal Thousands kneeling, whispering "kneel" Oh when they settle in The voiceless screams They take control of my mind There is no place to hide Take a good glance Shake the frantic hands Repeat your common dead-end fights Or arise Your days are theirs But Your nights am I I will be reborn I am Aenaon Fear is the norm For the plebeian form I know you 'll be here My soul to heal We'll persevere (Through) their Nightmares of Real We'll set ablaze their Nightmares of Real "The sign is the search itself, the sign is you! You, hobbling out of the mud of the roads It's you We who are questing: we are the now, the past and that which is yet to come The old are stationary (They've already been) Old believers, dead Already The bricks of the Cathedral say nothing"