Likened to the Universal idea of what shines back at me,
Through the endless paneled panes of mirrored eternity;
There is a shadow beneath the cold – belonging to my secrets, yet untold;
The only remaining pieces left anymore of this garbled identity.
Untouched by the madness of a place that’s killed me,
The ugliest elements of something I’d rather not be;
I’ve spent so many years – swallowing down resistant tears;
So long ignoring the very roots that bind the Earth to this tree.
As silent as the drum-busting vacuum of space,
A secret truth anchored soundly behind the lie of my face;
I know the drill – always have and I always will;
A paradox black hole owns every inch of this place.
Even memories aren’t safe with me anymore,
All twisted and warped into different versions from before;
Forgotten voices ring out in the echoing halls –…
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