Migration Chamber

Burn your eyes until they're red
Let the light blind you instead
Whatever things need not be asked
Turn into things you can't look past

Then become what can't be missed
A pachyderm in each rooms corner
I must have granted the wrong wish
A dose of euthanasia, per doctor's order

Proper life support unplugging, 
you've yet to learn
See your own lifeline short running,
Then your eyes burn
Picturesque and ashes framed,
it staring blank
When an end is only shame
of having just yourself to thank

So make a point be one of gratitude
For every answer which seemed void of truth...

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