ObservationFallen idols grasp, but only broken souls remain,
Fixated on the scraps, a morsel to sustain,
Crypto's primal conflict, a grasp of desperate hands,
Our community's thin thread, snapping where it stands.
The gnawing in my gut drowns out their pleading tone,
Our promised kinship, swiftly overthrown.
This stale bite, clutched tight against my skin,
More than just food, it's where my faith caved in.
Fighting for survival, the Masquerade is gone,
Except here in the depths, where the final game plays on.0.1639%
