So where was I then
When martyrs mattered
And madness was not just
A symptom but an occupation
Dilating reason in the eye of
Propagation, building pyramids
On top of it all, a weird thought
One that was quickly absolved
Going deeper it seems I may have
Been there after all
It all seems so familiar
The feeling irregular and unkempt
Yet those crooked Kemet corners
Drag me back to the sands where
I slept, a drowsy notion comes over me
I awoke in the sands
I feel the grains caressing my being
My desires and momentum
Reaching certain heights where
I could not fall and then I knew
I was the madness

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