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These cobble stone roads are cold, worn, and familiar
Every step forward is a step toward what the mind told you that you left behind

There is this fog, interfering with my paradigm
My eyes, my hands, my beloved senses
Serve me no use
I hear the headless horseman coming
And my neck's aching
He hovered over me
I closed my eyes, afraid not of him
But the fear of his peering through my soul, eyelessly
I may still have my skull on my neck
But I can't hear nor feel

Arms outstretched, moaning roaming
Aimlessly
Grasping the air that chokes the sensibility from me

But oh, I've been here before
Through the grace of rebirth

However, it's always cold
It's always lonely
And I always reunite with that horseman