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The Diminished Rat King
Whatever good you've cradled,
I can't be bothered to find.
You've been blind to mine at times.
Such ends we have enabled
speak dire of your confines:
internal irons that bind.
As the rat I am labeled;
I am nothing, and resign:
a scourge that burns in daylight.
From gutters I am fabled
to return one day to find
what ruin is left behind,
in the wake of your "insights".
