In a place, the eyes could barely lead,
For the pair were no more of any use.
Clouded by past memoirs, some glow and some so blue.
Lost thereof, for nothing else made any sense.
Behind shut lids, I embraced each moment.
Time and time again, into limbo I treaded further.
Unknowingly erasing my prints to make certain my no return.
If only I knew that my meal was my peril.
Tighter I clung to many pasts so laced.
As my thoughts smelted my lids to be forever shut.
Like a death potion gravely sought,
My deep craves a deep that slowly swallows me whole.
If only I could...
...stop and return here where it all started.
But then, the darkness of thoughtlessness shall begin.
And that, I dread the most.
If my essence be my pain, then that shall I remain.
Burn in my thoughts until there is nothing left of me.
By Hart Adolphus
The greatness of Alexander was earned from killing plenty
The notoriety of Adolphus was earned from killing plenty
Both men murdered humans as they desired
Today one is great and the other evil
Showcasing how history is written
The winner is always the author
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