Are you paying attention? Witness their quarrels— with each other, with themselves. Tangled in gilded thorns, a masked jungle of shadowed pleasures. Tortured tribes, soulless endeavors. We— unburdened, the heretics of their world, have already won their game. We know their darkness, for we know our own. The exit of their labyrinth, we are Liberation. No party, no masquerade, no libation. Need not be invited— the Mask was always your own The Kingdom is before you— but never a King, nor Throne.