I watch them sinking,
A smile on their lips.

Maddening things,
Are we

Smoke and mirrors,
The illusions become us.

We believe,
The unbelievable

Argent paints their eyes,
Enmity steals their breaths.

So hurtful,
Comely lies.

A temptation, this farce,
So we die, and do not die, again.

And oblivion,
Consumes us.

Penned by my hand on Tisday, the 25th of Lleian, in the year 504 MA.