I walk down the corridor I descend the dark aisle The wooden planks creak under my feet But the rug from the orient softens it Down at the basement I gather my gear With chalk I draw and with my palm I smear Envision a candle-lit cave With Helm of Awe as floor and ceiling Coming back up, I open the doors stepping forward to the balcony Miles and miles, and miles away as far as the eye can see Mid-gray atmosphere, with brownish hues Artistic masterpiece, beginning to bloom Fold to black, where shadows exist Turns to gloom, where light persists I only know this cannot be true what's behind it all I cannot recall I fully memorize this view and paint it over with silver and blue Begin my Galdor by whispering Then creak and shout, blazing out three words I let the wind take them further away Down the tower and through the plains Cho: Unknown dark horizons Untold and hidden blazons The book of power – that deceives the eye!