Naked, obvious truth is the final trait of your reality as you strike down from your ivory tower.
Once, proud was I.
As strong as a swing of your axe.
As compassionate as a Magi offering a poisoned pill.
As understanding as the devil shedding a tear.
succumbed to the lowest form of humanity.
Courageous in my world of smoke,
my faith being deceit.
Like partners, I have intertwined you with me in that river of styx . .
creating spontaneous combustion within my conscience.
I have worn myself out by running in the truth.
And now your mirrored image haunts
without speech, for my words draw blood.
without sight, for it is dark
without heart, for it has been removed.
without sound, for it has been drowned.
without soul, for it has been sold.
