I'm here in my alcove, waiting for the lights to come on or
go off, for some master wizard to flick the lighter-like device that determines
our fate, snatching illumination we need in order to keep on when all inside
seems so dim
I'm waiting for her
to come or go, to climb the stairs or desend them, to make her way past where I
sit so she can ignore me, to make it clear by not looking at me that I do not
exist.
I am the light lost in her life, flicked out of existence by
the wizard’s switch
I can almost hear the snakes that crawl through these walls,
speaking to me in tongues nobody else understands but me, warning me to behave
or risk turning myself into stone, spiders fleeing at my feet, the blood of the
innocent unicorn on my hands on my lips as I wait for immortality I don't
deserve
am I the undeserving so cast out of that churchyard, unable
to explain the great disarray I found.
But who in all this is really evil? I
Are we not all just a little bit tainted, to do what we must
to survive
and can I pass
judgment on others when I've done as much as they
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