I remain as an illusionist. I cast aside all the discarded husks. Unusable within my current form. And I reclaim the guise as I'm reborn. Posed and positioned in a neutral gesture. Something benign with no intent to threaten. Something you find within unguarded moments. Illusion is the chosen mass hypnosis. In truth, no living vessel casts a shadow of its' torture. But the shadow hangs upon it as the world drowns upon it. What is owed is never rendered. Even in death it's withheld. Like a swell with no release. Imploding inward without reprise. Now is the reign of the imagined man. The sheaths of flesh donning their cattle brand. Now propaganda grips you by the neck. Edward Bernays the holy architect. See how no shame, no guilt of disgrace is sold as pride. As if you're stainless. Convinced that life should be painless. Concede all until you're nameless. Now all I see are the vacated eyes. The dilated pupils tell no lies. Now disinformation keeps you well informed. Which final vanity will you afford? See how empty is the aesthetic. Can't heal or mend. Just so pathetic.Convinced that life should be painless. Concede all until you're nameless. Mirrored shields form a phalanx edging us back to the cliffs. Too transfixed to see the ground disappear beneath us.

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