World Excluded

This, this pen, it is not real
And this, this paper I scarcely feel
This air, sweet air, I do not breathe
The world, so cold, I somehow seethe

I fear of sitting in a throne
An empty throne made up of stone
And watch the maggots crawl below
Growing with increasing woe

This, this world, a faint illusion
Can't seem to make a mere conclusion
Alone, am I? Self secluded?
Alone, am I? The world excluded

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