I have created a mass
outside of myself
It breathes and it lives
It sees and it can smell

It lives where I dwell
to my six, it is twelve
to something small, it is large
for a high road, it is hell

This mass is a black hole
a whirlpool of currents
pushing and pulling
Together, it is master and I am servant

It watches me move
giving me space
to this mass I must prove
that I exist without face

I have done little wrong
but guilty I am
This mass is the judgment
of the filthy and damned

The mass will watch
the mass will record
When I am full of energy
the mass will absorb

Absolved and free
but with this black by my side
my black hole, my black mask
ready and willing to feed on my pride

“It is not real, it is not real”
I slither spineless like an eel
my dark mass must know
everything I know and how I feel

The mass will watch me fall
and it will let me lay
leaving behind a dot of blood
for the mass won’t let me stay

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