Life Through Broken Glass
Shadows cloud my mind...
where shall I go from here?
The paths I've walked are long forgotten
broken under the one I now walk.
Who was I?
Is my face so foreign now?
The mirror tells me lies.
These two paths laid before me...
pulsing like runway lights...
are just the same to me...
what difference could it possibly make?
The world turns without me,
leaving me behind to relive my nightmares.
And time after time,
I ask why?
For what?
These devils called men;
impulse without discipline.
So much fear and self loathing.
Here lies the shell
of a man without honor
broken and decayed
Engraved in his eyes is the final question:
What good is a reflection...
through broken glass?
