In the realm of the egoist's mind, A tale unfolds, both cruel and unkind. He sought to make all his own domain, To see the world as but an extension of his vain.
In his imagination, he turned all to self, No taste for others, no joy to delve. The capacity for good, now lost in the haze, His ego consumed him in a selfish blaze.
But as death claimed him, the final call, No longer tethered to this earthly sprawl. He got his wish, to be solely confined, To lie in the self, to explore what he'd find.
And what he found there, a bleak abyss, A Hell of his own making, an eternal hiss. No connections remained, no touch with the real, In his self-made prison, he began to feel.
No longer could he revel in the joys of the other, No longer could he share, love, or discover. The egoist's plight, a tragic descent, To be trapped forever in his self-content.
For life's true beauty lies in the shared, In the capacity to love, to be aware. But he, in his ego, severed those ties, And now in Hell, his soul forever lies.
So let this be a cautionary tale, Of the dangers of ego, the ultimate fail. For true bliss lies in embracing the whole, In connection, empathy, and a compassionate soul.
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