i am floating through two echoes of time, pasts and futures
on one echo is you, and another is loss,
of my destined fates, as a soldier of Apollo
there you came, a soul-less husk
tulpa of my delusion embossed
yet it was a God flimsily sutured
thus it croaked, full of sorrow, broken
the eloquent facade, bespoken
like a musician who improvisates
thus I wasn't sure what to ponder.
I began to speak to my id...
"well, are we not but leaves squirming through what was once sonder?"
"well that's the question isn't it?"
my third voice showed, the choice of a demon's dusk
"The only thing that's certain is void
and they damn well have got plenty of that"
```Laughing.My.Fucking.Ass.Off!```
Now you're making me laugh you fucker-
This poem is over
[∞:∞ PM]Athena: What the fuck did I just read
[∞:∞ AM]Sorav: Probably mental illness
*tries to edit but cant*
*youre fucking cringe faggot*
Yeah well fuck you too
prententious