MIRROR

Cages of feathers house our souls,

Twisting and turning on times roll;

An image of a future, dead and gone.

A vision; a dream across twitching eyelids,

A picture, a call, an excuse for the things I did,

A checked-board of royalty and of pawns.

A kingly sword for enemy’s throats

A crown above eyes of steel

A king’s robes flowing across king’s shoulders

A beggar, a vagrant, nothing amidst grave’s appeal.

Tortured/

And shifted.

Mutilated/

And gifted.

A “measure first, cut later” syndrome,

A chance not taken is a chance lost,

A psychedelic, psychotropic, middle-of-the-road Rainman,

Twisted minds fit in a skull as well as any other.

“Mystery,” cried the skeleton, lies like everything else.

Broken bones on concrete is no way to make your stand in Hell.

Tortured/

And shifted.

Mutilated/

And gifted.

A sickness of disobedience is the worst kind

Especially if you are left alive.

A voice not heard can still scream, so scream I must.

I will fight, and scream, and voice my disgust;

When the world won’t listen, I’ll make my stand,

Psychedelic, psychotropic, twisted, gifted man.