Towering sands, Crest-adorned lands,
Palaces beyond known peaks.
Islands trespassed, Clouds outclassed,
And feasts with many Kings.
Silent, yet obstreperous. Chaotic, though serene.
Of all the grandeur in the places you\'ve seen,
Has ever the thought crossed your mind:
That it wasn\'t really what it seemed?
Guile, behest, seek that which is gone,
\'Twas never here,
Nor there,
So where did the path turn wrong?
Right ahead of impertinence, shame, guilt,
The glass remains abundant.
In fury, in remorse,
Spheres which agony have forged.
Resound, content of mind,
It searches for something more.
Imbibed, coerced, strengthened from subtle fumes.
Pits devour, note the hour,
The clock rumbles atop its doom!
Fettered semblance.
Perhaps once, it made sense.
A vendetta marked through hate\'s memento;
Proclamated facade of innocence.
Devotion, heresy, what more of it shall be asked?
It\'s done all that it may!
Multiple trials and deft of results,
What left is there even to say?
The collapsing ruins of its mind have led madness right to its arms!
Wedged between the war of worlds,
Separated from edict and vice!
Upon which platter should be granted malicious intent?
Glance fiercely, Godspeed for all the rest;
Emphatic in its descent.
Traversing waters, enduring the light;
Through cowardice, through sordid taunts.
Along brinks of invention,
The fruit of Creation,
Stalagmites of doubt,
Faults of route.
Stretching, hoping, to grasp one flourishing maw!
In the entirety of things I\'ve seen so far,
He was the bravest of them all.
Patterns weaved, concealed by its design;
It persuades in what you believe.
The journey long, its resolve kept strong,
Sculpting matter and time.
Grace in deception, synthetic consideration,
Wallowing in the ocean\'s brine.
Seemingly platonic, thoughts then cease,
As its nature becomes refined.
Deceit, corruption, ambition, entropy.
Withering of its psyche!
Beautiful things that compose the Chameleon,
And the things that distinguish me.