The omnipresent power,
sometimes taking the shape of a transparent wall,
On the other side , showcasing a world of love and euphoria,
but on one’s side, a slave to phantasmagoria.
Attaching itself to the vulnerable soul ,
And residing in a tower,
With prison bars that stands so tall.
In one of it’s room,
Filled with green potions,
black photograph films of the memory, and blank white pages of emptiness.
And entering a subconscious state of gloom.
Embraced by Suffocating air,
On such a tomb , engraved in bold is ” death of egotism”
Such is the the power of being left, trampled upon and deserted by the power of love.
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