The illusionist is evil
Coiled with horrid thoughts
The Illusion he creates
And the power he holds
Meshed between unbalanced folds
Drenched with sorrow you close the distance
Between him and your resistance
But soon you find twas a bad mistake
He holds the key now much to late
Your sad attempts to find the truth
But in his hand he holds the illusion
The power to make you believe what you see
You think your lost you are with a tend
That power he makes all truth bend
Your will is sparse so falls your glory
He morphs a lie another story
Chained to a block
There's no where to go
The places he holds
The lies that he's told
All placed in your mind till he's done with your soul
Days go slow
While people go fast
He adds to the cycle
His feelings don't last
Called to the day of now
He roles the dice and found
One today another tomorrow
Two to play and one for sorrow
To the faded unread treasure
He who knows the highest measure of thy deepest regrets
He finds the one to play with next
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