Three at the table, to the right
Two at the table, to the left
And one in the middle
Yet, there was someone listening
Not from the outside
Not from the other door
But from, on the floor
He crouches under the table
Listening, writing, and remembering
He escaped, once the meeting ended
But reached nowhere
The other room where he laid
They created a masquerade
For they knew what to do
They pinched him with a probe
He grimaced
They tried to take his soul
He remembered
They failed to behold
The greatest power of all
He said,
it is time for them to fall
Riddle me this. The night of the fallen angel something came from the light. It…
They will not sleep into that narrative, but instead awake and recognize it is just…
I found the seed, when I was sweeping the floor, all alone between the cracks…
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