Besedila: Kryptos. Spiral Ascent. Satyr Like Face.

A secret bottled in your orbs,
A flutter, a whisper on your lips
You came in disjointed parts,
My nucleus, overcame with lies

Your sanity is my grace, all mislaid forever, never

Sipping all your vanity,
Slipping into seamlessness,
My prudence is in shambles,
My war with the ancient.