The city drowns in blue at the morning dusk While the wind chips away at the concrete dust

Spinning in place, I ask, "Where do I belong?" In exile I call forth, the need to be strong

"The centre is everywhere" says the voice behind the mask "The choice is yours to bare" whispers the liquid in the glass "I will hold on here" echoes the flower in full bloom "Your fate is yours to steer" screams the invisible moon

In exile I call forth, the need to be strong Axis Mundi is the course, with a little bit of luck.