The Curator

A cold reflection Its searing gaze forms a bold selection This metal cage is a living museum Haunting optics tell a story Delusions grow and cloud my mind A fleeting figure controlling our fortune through space and time Staring in the mirror I see all but me Another piece in its collection Framed within a world unknown Trapped between your final seconds No escape, recourse, or rescue Is there a lesson? A final word? Wantless reasons with screams unheard Ascending to his death He knows what is to come A cry for help in a vicious cycle Desperate pleas done only in vain Fueled by fear Breathing in, before it's too late Awaken despair Breathing out, accepting his fate In an instant it's gone Vanished, no trace A sign of hope in a wicked samsara No relief or change Its absence means more victims The shattered image of my deadly reflection Approaching the end, beginning again All is revealed by the Curator Reliving the past through shattering glass All is revealed by the Curator All are controlled, disposed All is revealed and known by the Curator This hall of mirrors, my gruesome gallery I am the Curator I will control all known Unrestricted by time, a limitless power I am the Curator I will consume all life Fear not the end, for I am above I am the Curator I will become all death

Submitted by Cyberwaste — Nov 15, 2025