The blindfold falls, and darkness starts to wane,
A journey’s path, where hidden truths reside,
We seek the light, to break the binding chain.
The gavel’s knock, a solemn, soft refrain,
Where ancient wisdom’s currents gently glide,
The blindfold falls, and darkness starts to wane.
The candidate, in whispered, low complaint,
For brighter stars, where shadows cannot hide,
We seek the light, to break the binding chain.
The compass turns, where mysteries attain,
A higher plane, where virtues coincide,
The blindfold falls, and darkness starts to wane.
The apron’s white, where purity’s domain,
A sacred quest, where noble souls confide,
We seek the light, to break the binding chain.
From shadowed halls, to knowledge’s bright fane,
A brother’s hand, a guide, a faithful stride,
The blindfold falls, and darkness starts to wane,
We seek the light, to break the binding chain.