These well-lit rooms and stainless halls
Are host to choruses of fear
Behind each door a nightmare calls
Contained by persons without peer
Another test requires my aid
I pass the doors and darkened stairs
I’ve felt the terror, still I’ve stayed
I’ve let go of my woes and cares.
I should have left, and just moved on
They cautioned me: “Don’t linger, please.”
And still I feel I’m somehow drawn—
So strange are these anomalies.
These horrors spin their selfsame song
Have I been dreaming all along?
Dark tales of old and stories grim
Horrors unsheathed, without respite
Long needles, amputated limbs
Are not rare sights within these sites.
Body bags, festering rot
Things looked upon with such disgrace
Perhaps it’s best to question not
How to stay sane within this place.
This Foundation, these personnel
With minds so sharp and nerves of steel
Track the nightmares where they dwell
And ponder what is truly real.
Don’t ask them of the better days
Their laughter wipes the dreams away.
You are of trance and mysteries
Oh, Illusory Butterflies
I wonder of your memories
Please weave your wings and show me lies.
Oh Five five three, a jewel are you
Whether adult or small larva
You are a masterpiece, it’s true
Of calcite, quartz, and silica.
Poor Weather Bug, you met your end
No more the air will you explore
No air pressure will your wings rend
May you sleep softly evermore.
Illusions, weather, crystal gleams
Your beauty is the stuff of dreams.