Then it all came to an end.
The act, the mask, the whole concept.
It fell like Titans, crumbled and disintegrated.
Half life isotopes, thriving on similar values yet very distinct core differences.
Unfamiliar memories begin to blur, colors starting to blend creating secondary style.
Ironically it grabs me, hands free so that I can navigate but troubled to expedite my arrival.
Diligent so it can test my patience, quiet so it can keep my visions locked.
Along with that, it thuds and pulsates keeping me alive.
A flip in plot, a twist in objective, a curve in delivery.
Unseen, winding, foggy, it slowly clears and now at this very moment.
The terror, the nightmare of others becomes the heroin story.
Injected into my blood stream.
The mind changed, so the heart believed, and the world undoubtedly succumbed to the truth.
No longer at battle, no longer checkers, it becomes a prestige.
Checkmate on a chess board.
A legacy and in the end.
I gracefully take a bow.