A Thousand Mirrors

A Thousand Mirrors

All we do as sinners is look upon these thousand mirrors.
Too ashamed to ask for help, trying to escape ourselves

I’m in a broken room in a worn out place,
With a solemn look on my bloodstained face,
The memories that keep me company,
Are the same ones that torture me.

When the slightest movement causes fascination,
You start to respect your isolation,
When you’re wasting away and starting to rot,
There is an eerie eagerness for you heart to stop.

All we do as sinners is look upon these thousand mirrors.
Too ashamed to ask for help, trying to escape ourselves