The carousel of lost dolls runs for eternity,
And we are sentenced to stumble amok in its madness.
But there are those who claim they have found
A pillar of the house of Equidae,
A graceful transport,
Or a savior.
They are as delusional
As those who believe they can see the souls
Of the mannequins whipping past.
Like those who can recognize the stars,
Or those who know the universe has a purpose.
There is but one law:
To never slow down.
To never let us get a true glimpse
Of a grotesque and eyeless face.