Queen

You lay out plans for the past
Drift along corridors silent with dust
Releasing static
Intent on invasion

Weird like the night
Sweeping paradigms fake illusion
drive the mind from action
self-discovery arrived late

The mastering of the opinion machine
Forming ghosts beyond a mighty pulse
of friction the stakes are dislocation
rotation echoes across the walk

from there to where they came from
the maze that gets you lost from the confusion
provided by negative damning allusion