Sidle up to the rusted gate
Daring to play with fate
One false move might be the end
But you’ll only know that once its penned
So try your hand and beg for mercy
Otherwise you might grow cerci
What a prize that you don’t want
The kind that will strip you of being confident

Clamber over the razor spikes
Truth is they look more like pikes
Jutting up toward the sky
One false move will unleash a cry
The kind that might just shatter glass
Not a surprise when you are crass
But that is not the point at all
And if you think it is then you’ve failed the call

Now you’re over you contemplate
Was all of this just a mistake?
But time has passed for that thought
It’s why soon you will feel frought
Especially when the curse does come
Rend you from what you believed in
Morph you into a demon
Then take away every ounce of what was once freedom

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