Slender beams of accusation enter
this darkened prison as I kneel,
always forlorn, always a slave,
frozen here,
waiting.
Tortured forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
sparing not my darkened soul.
Blood on a deathless face.
I raise my head, now kneeling before
this oblivious mortality.
Awesome, totally Awesome!
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