In this ballroom,
They are bride and groom.
But it truly seems,
That this arrangement attracts doom.
For they are but puppets,
Forced to dance on a never-ending stage,
So they play their parts to perfection,
Praying that someday,
Things will change.
For whom are you putting on this act?
To which great masquerade artist
Are you trying to prove yourself?
– Maya Desdemona
Your mechanical typing
Truly resembles clockwork.
Although I am aware
That you are, at present,
Heartlessly and mindlessly at work,
I cannot help but compare you to clockwork.
The many gears of your mind are turning,
Your hands continually typing,
Your soul is now nonexistent,
And your heart seems to have failing power.
Such a lively person so lifeless,
Can even strike something called pity,
Yet I know you well,
And can only cackle at your half-heartedness.
But my, What is this?
It seems my laughter has raised your spirits,
And now you happily chat with me,
While your work lays forgotten.
– Maya Desdemona
Luminousis 