For years it mocked me. Trailing behind like a doppelganger, close enough to coax my anger, far enough to evade my grasp. There was no stratagem it could not anticipate, no attack it could not escape. It was as if it could read my very thoughts.
And my nights were filled with savage dreams of vengeance; brutal, surreal retribution for the crimes of this interloper. As grand inquisitor, I imagined I heard its pleas for mercy, but none I offered, and its cries of torment perfumed my soul.
And now, at last at the end, I am empty, disenchanted. The thing is done, yet the horizon ahead lies barren and joyless. What a fool I’d been. What a damnable fool.
If that’s all there is, Chris G., ♪ then let’s keep daaaaan-cing… ♪