Within the deep and darkling depths,
the places only whispers roam,
the empty halls of conciousness,
an ancient secret makes its home.
A fleeting memory of better times,
the chill of notions barely grasped,
the hope of reaching fairer climbs,
were all it's charges in the past.
it mourns the lingering death of dreams,
it watches as souls rot and decay,
enigmas fray and break it seems,
such trifles have been hidden long away.
As robots we no longer see within,
but if we did we would surely find,
a phantom waiting beneath our skin,
haunting the corridors of our mind.