I see red when hearts are near.
And when they’re not, my mind is clear.
At times it’s close, at times it’s far.
A grain of sand, an evening star.
The wind swept chop destroys my stance.
The brushed flat blue has me in trance.
An image mixed with my perception.
Beyond the flames, beyond deception,
But for how I’ll always tend,
With real and true and how they bend.
This space and its utility.
Where hope cries from futility.
A master of reality,
Is fine with its mortality.
I am mortal, that’s what I feel.
Is this a tale, or is this real?
The many mirrors, the many souls,
Shimmer back what I don’t know.
Do I believe what I see,
Reflecting clearly back at me?
Do I deny that which is plain,
That’s shining back time and again?
It is too close to be clear.
But all I want is to be near.
Some things hurt too much to see.
So I deny of mine and thee.
I reflect to you a token,
From this soul that’s ever broken,
As it is supposed to be.
I wonder what you see of me.
The effects and their release,
Is all I feel will never cease.
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