Thoughts and memories persist
A wicked beast shall not desist
Chromatic shores bloom around aching, arid plains
Where wilted sundials have eternally lain
The horizon imprisons all that has ever been
Visages of the known and forgotten
Two spirits wander within this intimate cage,
Actors on a private cerebral stage
A new visitor quietly observes a prancing parade
Of ethereal beings moving in glissades
The troupe approaches the confused, foreign creature
With curiosity brimming from their abstract features
"Though you may not recognize our faces, we've always been here, hiding in peculiar places," the leader speaks.
"Though you may not want to believe it, we'll always be here, playing in your wits," another shrieks.
"A tyrant has seized us and taken over our home, residing far below in wretched catacombs."
As the air fills with sudden chills,
the beings collapse, deathly ill
Turning towards the source,
the visitor is struck, laden with remorse
"At last, we meet
Lionel, look into my eyes. They are yours. Can't you see the life fading away?"
A grotesque, necrotic man moves closer to the visitor. They are one and the same
"For this state we're in, who is to blame?
Once a man of hope, now forlorn and lame..."
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