no one upholds the golden soul
no one pushing the stone aside
no one healing the mind of the wicked
there never was
transfixed upon the cliffs of night
looking down, heavy weight
deliverance from all this thinking
as we fall to the bottom, which is never enough the mirror provides a novel horror
reflections revealed, faces removed
these symbols beneath the heart’s floor stretching out across the vacant expanse
an infinite field, a dark emptiness
never steady, never content
it a wreath of shame, a path to hell
halo of blood, warped mouths agape
a system upon the deadend faces
illusions become food for the saints
may the angels weep
as the algorithm draws it down
and still, no one loosens the stone
no one
fixed upon the cliffs of the sane
looking down with heavy weight
now the one thing left to do
is drop you into the trash heap