Am I enslaved forever, where time and space unite?
Deep within a world where torment souls take flight?
Reality's canvas, a hollow echo, stark and cold,
like tears of a dreamer, mourning tales untold.
Locked within the dungeon of my own melody,
for reality threatens to shatter but bends its knee.
The world outside may rage, yet here is peace,
where humanity is my shield, chaos finds release.
I drift, a silent leaf on the morning breeze,
a lost child, seeking solace in whispers with ease.
Humanity's reality feels, foreign, distant, cold,
yearning to ascend to embraces anonymity like gold.
Is reality mere necessity, a masquerade of senses?
Or does a hidden spider weave truth's defenses?
Yet what beauty lies in this ethereal tapestry,
hiding the dark hole surrounded stardust imperishably.