B L A C K H O L E
The twinkle of gold in the distance
catches my peripheral view
I walk down a darkened hallway
It's walls are utterly askew

The voices call out in the black
They know my title and my game
They set out to put me in shackles
but my strength they shall not tame

Phantom hands reach out to me
Probing until I lose control
Pushing them back yet bringing them closer
In the end only losing my soul

Sentimental virtue and pure innocence
reflects off a grand crystal sphere
Wanting to have them back in my possession
Touching the ball, my flesh starts to sear

Lost strands and uneven sands
leak into an eternal abyss
trying to catch them in my hands
sadly the particles I miss

Suck me in, I lose myself
Never to see light of the sun
Barely wondering what could have been
When all is said and done

Twirling and flashing bright color about
squeezing my head into a mass
pressure snaps my vertebrae
It sets out to maim and harrass

Echoing thoughts and wandering dream
Never substantial only vague
Running in circles, spinning my wheels
While avoiding this horrific plague

It follows me wherever I go
My shadow of a nightmare given life
It sets inside my mind to rot
Like death, who carries a Scythe

Designing hatred and invidiousness
Demensions warped and array
Eat away at the reality of it all
The soul to dismember and decay

Tempting rebellion rising fast
Groutesque images in mine eye
Laughing hysterically at my disgust
All these things I set out to defy.

To vanquish and reject my evil self
I staple my shadow to the ground
Subdued for now, but it can escape
I shall rejoice until it is unbound.



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