To hold such a thing dear to your heart,
Before darkness consumes.
Not that evil has corrupted,
Even though we can't be certain.
The haze comes quick, as always.
The self-loathing is just as fast.
But the haze makes me forget.
Not that I mind.
That's what the haze is for.
Memories that mean nothing; gone.
Truths that I've deemed unneeded; lost.
The haze begins to fall; panic rarely comes.
Understanding usually follows.
One quick trip.
Breathe deep.
Close your eyes.
Embrace the truth, never fight.
Repeat breathing.
The haze returns.
Colors define how I feel.
How I feel defines the colors I see.
An endless loop of darkness,
Though I'm not in the dark.
I speak of the way I feel.
It's not how I am.
For I'm not who I seem to be.
I'm just a simple servant,
Here to speak to you,
In the place of the Haze.
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