A shard of a mirror,
A piece of a glass,
A reflective, smooth surface,
I pray this will last.
A pale face inside it,
The eyes, empty pits,
The shadow reflected,
Just quietly sits.
I used to love mirrors,
Translucent and true,
Until they deceived me,
And showed something new.
Can you even trust them?
Their lies and their ways?
Peer into their surfaces,
Days after days...?
A sliver of wet glass,
A slice of a shard,
There once was a time,
When looking wasn't so hard.
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The slow black shadow. Swallowing my feet. Stalking me. A depressing black. A friend till the end. Or a dark presence. Neither I will ever know. But she leaves me at dark. Leaves to who knows where.
The hell of screams. Hall of dreams. From breaths of life. Not of the shackles. I await the carnality. Lust and desire. The king reigns and laughs. The devil resides. He burns. To touch in embrace.
Cracks of moonlight illuminating bruised skin and flesh so polluted it's cast in hues of purple and grey. In the nighttime there's not a whisper. Only silence fills this house.
I'm the shadow in the night, The one that lurks out of sight. I'm the sadness in your heart, The one that rips your soul apart. I feed on your fear, Knowing I am near.
Savage plains of hatred filling up your sight. Graphic crazy statements filled with so much might. The truth is false your fears are real. I taste your tears I know how you feel.
Darkness spreading across my room, I know that today will be my doom, I try to find my way out of here, my room used to be small but I'm no longer there, Everything is black and smells of death, I...
(Possibly hitting the lower end of 16+ please read with caution -or not at all.) ---- Go ahead and make my day Take your pitiless heart and stray.
Black as the pits I bury them in. I'm more corrupt than original sin. Searching for truth to muddy it's waters. Searching for faith to laugh as it falters. You have your one in trinity.
Hard , we narcissist are, In body image travels , as cosmic as Jeanie afar , Or like that evils one Jafar Or had having an ideal image been pushed in us, purposefully so we scar ,?, it sculpts out self loathing in us enough , to buy that shiny new car - , but only if we work hard ,- I think we all know who the real pirate are, not the rum drunk scurvy punks , saying constant insensible "arghs" No Not people placed in prisons , Walking , oh so hard, to escape a shiv in that yard , It's the judges those Wigs whom placed them there , or perhaps even the guard , Or us, the magazines helpless , As hapless as tards , I don't think any really knows Even us What true narcissist Are - Or why , if ever , we try So fucking hard , Radom musings , From this bard brought cerca truth stationed abroad --- Ya this one made me want to write something , , so it was pretty good , pretty good indeed.
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