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I was born from the shadows
What others would see as a curse
I see as a blessing
For it allows me to go unnoticed
To conceal myself from the curiosity from others
And to hide from myself
The vault is a mystery
For it stood for millennia
Its inhabitants long forgotten
Inside may lay a vast wealth of treasure
Or the knowledge of gods
Or it may simply be a locked room
We will never know
For it was lost with time
When time existed
Now it drifts
Endlessly through the void of what was, and what is
Though, not of what is to come
The barrier held back creatures of unimaginable power
However, these creatures do not use this power for good
They corrupt, destroy, infect, all that is good
The land upon which they walk, turns to ash and dust
That is why they are held behind the barrier
And I am the Guardian to that barrier
However, over time the barrier has weakened
Cracks now appear all over it
From the continued assualt from them
I fear for the day they overcome this small obstacle
Not for them reaching me, but for ignoring me
That which lurks within the abyss has been long forgotten
Only one remains of that knowledge
And that knowledge is power, for it means the end
The end of what is
And what is to come
The corruption spread as the sun does every day
Slowly making its way across the land
Unlike the sun, it did not go away with the day
Instead, it became more powerful
Wildlife became sick
Plant life withered away
People turned into dark, vile creatures
Nowhere was safe
Least of all the surface
The box
That dreadful box
It is chained to the floor
And buried under several meters of cement and dirt
Inside the box
The object inside the box
It has no shape
No form
It is a fear
A fear every man
Woman
And child
Fears
It is the truth of who they are
Who they were
And who they are to become
It is this truth they fear
They cannot change what they see
I have been condemned from an early age to be alone
Even when I am among friends, or family
I am soaring high above the ground, the people I know
With each person, or persons, I shift forms
Sometimes a bear, or a snake, or even an eagle
But more often than others, I shift into a statue
A statue that reflects me best
The Thinker
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