Down a winding corridor
Where all is silver and cold,
There snakes a winding carpet
Heralding a king enthroned.
The mirrors on the ceiling stare
At a flooring of black ice;
The carpet is a ribbon silver
Unwinding into the night.
White pillars stand at attention,
Saluting from either side.
They hail the king of the universe:
He is the king of his mind.
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