Depravity of the mind.
Corruption of the flesh.
I need that key.
All I perceive is red. Glowing behind smooth orbs, seething. An eclipse, foreboding, the color of despairing brick. Pitiable walls are erected with it.
I cannot take my eyes off the penetrating eyes of plenty I see. Everywhere.
Of serpents, they seem. Slippery and significant. Look away, and they bite. Stare too long, and they hypnotize, invading, deceiving asps under the skin. Scratch until the steel gates close behind and until time runs dry. It only inflames the cunning squatters.
My eyes radiate red, too. I notice it even when lying to myself.
The purer eyes I find occasionally tell me it does not need to be so. There is an alternate route. It is not too late; they share. Diligent with your heart, you must be. It is written, an ancient proverb foretold. On that thought, I sit. With love comes freedom. I have a worthy heart to protect. Is that it? The lesson?
Find the key, but it is buried deep, they answer. After will come the purge and the surging river, blood red and wicked, retched until you are clean. The old exiled, the new flowing, tranquil and unspoiled.
Depravity of the mind.
Corruption of the flesh.
Down my throat, I reach.