No matter the charm to grace the joy
always it’s raped by Ares’s kind.
Wilting the prism of reflecting light
into a sphere that summons the dark.
Decaying the meaning into a mysterious shape
that picture’s a blankness no one to engage.
No rabid excurse to equal the glass
as the realm of relief leads to an uneasy respire.
Creating distortion repeated since when
humanity’s dark -side became the voice of its breath.
And the Athena wisdom of seven joined hues
parted their ways into a sinuous haze.
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