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Conspiracy

All ears to the
deformed rhythm
of the grisly music.

                 For underneath
is the silent prisoner. . .

                      They have diffused away his
                               ingenious thoughts.

And to justify
is to become a seeker.

   The subservient one
to the naked eye
          Was the all-consuming
    treasure, he abides.

And the glorious scenery
of the daylight that they have glimpsed,

Is not a pleasure
          but a persuasive lie.