The depths of darkness hide him well,
from paranoia's grasping claws,
he sits alone, noone can tell,
They scratch the surface of his walls.
The dancer dances in the dark,
A dance that noone else can share,
through lonely halls, both cold and stark,
He pantomimes his own despair.
Of surface pleasures He'll partake,
A fool's diversions feed the guise,
his actions mirror your mistake,
and cover emptiness with lies.
Do not enter, say the signs,
There's nothing here for you to know,
Just watch his actions, hear his lines,
He's asking nothing for the show.
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