Reflections on a Mirror

Today, he kept on looking at the mirror

Staring at an image haunched in habitual dolor.

"Who am i?"

...he whispers,

staring deep into the dark pigments of his eyes.

At this time, flashes begin

with the horrors of a soul squashed in the

pallors of self-ruin

Fragments of a life that have eaten its own sin.

Digested and filled,

With the crumbles of pity and its din,

glitching of reckless redemption.

He has seen this image before

A déjà vu from the fifth dimension of time

Creeping into his world of reality.

That defines fear as the presence of an entity

beyond the walls of his imagination.

15 Jan 2016

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Rantings of a dying dream

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MUSPIRATIONS

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