Mirror to mirror, a face floated in anguish
the mourning was deep
whenever inquest for truth was made.
Was it so terrible?
I cannot read the human face.
We were so used to wearing the masks.
Stoned and deaf, fuzzy kiss of death
levels the ferocious peak.
The nameless murder of truth got a reward.
Garden of strange foliage slurred on a song.
A metaphysical experience sniffs the life.
Chained to the probity of the city, I bowed my head.
Reluctant to move in a procession of ugly months.
Lifetime’s nostalgia lifted a veil.
No sleep will descend.
I still carry my father inside.
