Mirror Image (a sonnet)

 

A cross betwixt flame and earth doth reside

In the shining fury of mortals’ eyes.

Behold that which doth destroy so much

With simple reflections, a ghostly touch.

 

Laughter ceases upon it, a thoughtful examination,

The opposite of introspection, gateway to damnation.

With growing lies and shrieking cries we tear into deceit,

Clawing flesh to look our best, with eyes wrought of temptation.

 

With gaping soul-wounds and ill, empty eyes,

Now cold ivory smiles assault us.

Our fixtures on phony are now our demise,

As our perfect bones crumble to dust.

We thought this was life, and nothing was left,

But all we orchestrated was death.

 

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