The Mirror

Listening to the silence
Benighted, in form and sight
Morose solitary thoughts trembling me inside
To shivering cold meat and marrow
I cry out; terrified;
I look at the mirror.
I must be insane
But still I hear them all in the same.
What mimiced by the manifestation
Seem like lies; or are they words?
Words I haven't spoken yet?
Words I would speak after a thousand years?
In confusion I thrust the reflection to shatter
But who else, but the twin sensed.
It did not matter! It did not matter!

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com