The Barrow

I am bound: chained to the boulder of what I used to be.

I am gagged: I cannot speak, lest it fall on me.

Will they dig up every joke, every old degenerate meme, everything that makes me as I am want to claw my eyes and scream?

I am a son of the final age, brain-poisoned and sick: but in the past I did not even see their dark and twisted tricks.

I was duped to play along in the greatest dumbing down. This darkness entered gaily dressed in a sheer and glamorous gown.

Maybe that's the point of keeping us sheltered from the light. If we ourselves were wicked, then we lack the will to fight.

We can be threatened, blackmailed, excommunicated, controlled and coerced. While our souls are parched and dying of a great and cosmic thirst.