Sometimes when driving through towns
Past little homes and apartment complexes
I can't help but to wonder
What unspeakable horrors hide behind
Those walls
That conceal
And muffle
Am I deranged? To imagine such things
To worry about the deeds
That may or may not be happening
In hidden rooms and behind closed doors?
Is it my anxiety? Is it a psychic connection?
And so.
I created my own idea of a perfect world
A system.
Where people are safe, from the horrors of another's sense of justice
Enter Aethisia
A world built entirely by the host.
A world free of others.
And only in his own solitude,
Do I believe man will truly Flourish.