8
Walking through life is like walking through a hall of mirrors,
A hypothetical carnival,
The different angles distorting the original image.
Magicians turning flies into magnolias,
Ravens to doves.
Clowns making merry of devastation.
Trapeze artists making danger fantastical.
Contortionists bending thoughts and memories.
A maze of mirrors turns to the maze of the Queen of Hearts,
Dotted with roses painted red.
While roses red are beautiful,
Every rose has its thorn.
Touch, and be poisoned by confusion.
While stumbling through the maze,
stumble into Cinderella`s masquerade.
Face the masks of mirrors,
The dancing couples with glittering glass eyes,
The thousands of angles put together
The image of your true self,
As transparent as a glass slipper,
And may the doves fly at the marriage of true and reality.
TOC