Mirrors mirroring not what mirrors mirror.   Drinking this mirage, emulating my form.   Echoes of reflecting thoughts exuding an air of sorrow.   The presences within the glass, weeps deeply at its glassy heart.   A blind man I am, staring into this mirror.   Blinded in darkness, yet sighting the pain.   These curtained eyes, sightful...

The phantom voices are soundless unsoundness to the normal world.   With my own tongue, psychosis cracks this lash, scolding the empty air.   Give one hell, give another heaven, but where is my heaven?   Fracture this jawbone - this jabbering embarrassment within my vacant face!   Raked over hellish coals, blistering with utterances, my mind...

Midsummer season on my wintry lips, these modern symptoms from antiquated sorrows.   The sunlight of acceptance, and midnight of isolation.   Youthful blushes and the wrinkles of experience, I have the free will to question my fate.   This wealth of imagination, and the poverty of my reality.   The...