Everything lives reflected
In the statue of mirrors
Every shape grows inverted
In the statue of mirrors
A phenomenon beyond phenomena
The veil beyond the veil
An oracle I have become
An empty vessel, a gap
Yearning to be filled
With the eyes of the first man I see
Dispersed in primordial fogs
Renouncing the values of life
I inhale the bright winds
All the light bleeds distorted
In the statue of mirrors
All the filth thrives rewarded
In the statue of mirrors
Thy karma is the colour
Of what we learn to know as death
We brick up the rooms of the dead
It would be dark, without a sound
Thy karma is the colour
Of what we learn to know as death
Inhale the bright winds
And exhale stale odours of existence
Be gone
Through loose threads you crawl
Be still, be nothing
Be gone
A doppelganger in the world beyond the glass
Sharp lines, raw edges
Frame rate high, expectations low
The pace so even
It caught me by surprise to see you die
Strict divisions between one act and another
Your deeds in a sequence
Delicate movements, minor details
Felt rather than seen
The theme consistent, the arrangement so clear
I wish you could see it, too
Such order of things makes me calm
And so were you
At times
Until you were not
The escutcheon of glass forever hides your wound
The beads of foxfire forever lit the tomb
Thy scars unhealed, thy work undone
Thy demise delayed
As for thy deeds - An epitaph
Please - be gone