Walk with me a while, and let me tell you a tale
of a boy who's eyes shone bright with the lustre of dreams.
It was skin he'd never touched that brushed 'cross his cheek
and lips he'd never taste that kissed his soul 'til he'd scream.
He could in no way see the world of brick and of stone
that was all about him in the waking hours of day
but he could see the gods turn aft on him and scorn
and he could see the devil dance and watch the devil play.
"My boy", the devil teased, "the gods care not of you.
Dance a while with me and I shall lead you where you go."
At first he pulled away, his senses still attuned
but soon his strength was fading and he badly needed hope.
So he danced with the daemons by the devils twisted tune
and as he caught on fire he uttered not a word
for the devils hope was false and his friendship bent
but when the boy had asked for love by the devil it was heard.
The gods showed no compassion for his cries that he unleashed
they offered him no solace and meant him not well
at least the devil played the part, although he meant it not,
that little slip of hope was worth eternity in hell.