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".

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