He bare’s his soul to me, I bare my soul to him.
Prologue Chapter 4
I sit in a room familiar, yet alien in its design.
I talk to a man I know all too well, yet will never meet.
He bare’s his soul to me, I bare my soul to him.
We will have this talk countless times, I can never recall word.
Not a word, but a sentence.
The final sentence, a question.
“Were we Prometheus or Pandora?”
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