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Artifice

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I wake up early – for the dogs who watch me.

Donned in paint – the sanest endeavor.

For nakedness is the true madness;

A cloak – society’s price…

To live in the sanity – that without – is nigh iconoclast.

But yet; the dogs watch for more;

A slightest revelation is condemnation –

Lapped up – in the onslaught of perfection;

Clouding the windows for centuries.

For the true being shall not see to see –

The metamorphic chain – true sanity-

Till the Dark King claims his prize,

The price of my endeavors-

Led to the ultimate madness;

By his cold warmth.


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