I have met many faces,
each believing in the existence of one,
yet they were conscious of the fallacies before them,
products of fairy tales,
sweet innocence wrapped in youth,
and lust drenches in feral pride,
and hatred,
and envy,
there was one left in the shadows,
too frightened to raise her head,
and then there was I,
too confused to define my name,
too lost to claim permanence,
so we searched for the lasting truth,
the survivor at the end of this night,
the lone victor facing the dawn,
just as I believed my conscious became concrete,
-there was a knock upon the door