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letra de mount, mettle, and key - azure (prog rock)

my feet slip through fern mist and nettle
as i rise the isolate spire
textures are found and forgotten
my mind a menag’rie of zeal and abnormal desire

there is a breeze albeit directionless
it signals no change in time nor change in temperature
my thighs grow weak the incline is merciless
the test that awaits me doubtlessly far more arduous

do i have the mettle?
thе sword-keeper waits at the summit
herе’s where my azdinic journey begins
(here’s where i show myself worthy to him)
i may be afraid but i’ll learn
the trees and the steepness diminish
and i’m at the top

there in the clearing stands an acolyte
(he beckons me and)
i follow on into a clastic shrine
harsh and reluctant
(my instructor ever doubting me)
but still i persist until my azdin shines

i cast the fire
suffer the strain regain my might
the more i acquire
the less of a doubt in my master’s eyes
on the precipice
posture the wind and sway the light
birth of a sorceress
azdinist
and when the blood spills from my mouth
and i think of home
i know i’m due to focus up
hone my body and test myself
anchor like there’s no way out
tenfold my regeneration

as i reach the plethora of power
my teacher crosses the shrine
‘here behind this door resides the promised sword
it’s yours so take it if you can’

when all my strength fell redundant my memory offered the key
so i hurl one last whip of fire as i recall the lock
esoteric as it seems i’ve read about these things

i watch as the lock yields
(and the door begins to shift)
revealing some smothered light-source in a blackened sheath
(suitably l-strous)
‘see the blade is named becomingly
this blade is yours and only yours to wield’

i cast the fire
(suffer the strain regain my might)
the more i acquire
the less of a doubt in my master’s eyes
on the precipice
posture the wind and sway the light
birth of a sorceress
azdinist
i swallow back nerves and bile in my mouth
it’s time to make my way down

my feet slip through fern mist and nettle
say goodbye as i glide from crest to the core

the paluns i seek each swathed in umbral distortion
the first lies beneath a bloom of flowers opulent
‘there is a breeze that only a petal could learn from’
this dreary riddle was his final verse before i left
my quest is to start at the chasm
‘fox lavender waits at the edge to take me across’
i arrive but the creature is absent
the winds of the void enfevered
the bloom past the chasm so fertile yet so far away

- azure prog rock

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