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I came to him from the papers to feed him lies and vapors, and to query if Harry would come with me
A box to be built, he oblivious of guilt, measuring at least one cubic living-space in size for one
Five walls white to highlight their plights and slight the might of their mind's eye--with eyesight
The sixth wall amoLED, a dichotomously colored dragon's head, deceivingly glowing to keep walls fed
Five rows of five stacked two rows deep in the Hive, an investment into my legacy that I canot deny
Each box houses also a webcam and audio receiver, the better to view them with if girls get a fever
You bring me the ladies, one from each state, avoid the haitis and babies and with a healthy weight
Angles differed on each box, the site will be up where anyone can watch and streams live for always
The lights come on and the dream dawns from afar, millions watch women sit not knowing who they are
But as days dawn and brain beats brawn, a fear and doubt will instill and a realization will sprout
Save Alexandra! Hang in there, Chantel! The media will go wild, obvious reply to a hive being riled
Denials and shutdowns, seizures and apprehension, the site will remain live as I seek the ascension
My face will be plastered, my voice will be known, this feat I have mastered is a thought of my own
They'll question, I'll laugh, session live to my audience, watching my show with a clear conscience
Withering faster than I, the ladies will have some problems: on camera they'll cry and mentally die
The clock will run out and to prevent doubt, a triggered safety mechanism will kick in to guide her
The one last survivor, my designated driver, now affixed to the news station I willingly confess to
States banded together for justice are defeated by trivial robustness and a single satellite tether
Together they stood to try and do good, but security and mindfulness did better; not even a mistake
Remember my name and quake in my fame, you'd disagree as you may, but feast your eyes on perfection
Friends of friends of uncles of grandpas of daughters of doctors of sisters of instructors will see
And their sons and daughters will hear the tale, meticulously telling the futile quest for my trail
The mechanism is two-fold, I forgot to tell you; a quick confession before her last breath withdrew
The cameras shut off and the website goes down, boxes existing entirely now in the talk of the town
The searches continue but remain to be fruitless, the finding of the Hive is reduced down to hubris
But not gone is my name and nor is my face, the perfect deeds I have done nor the subsequent chase,
Through eternity I will live by mouth and through word, nerves stirred whenever a name is overheard
The figure of excellent with a perfect plan, using the reliability of automation to be a ladies man
If critics could rave they'd rave "Perfectly planned, brilliantly executed!", in more ways than one
Doubt will continue after my body is rotten, and yet I can assure you that I will not be forgotten.