The sands become my tomb
As I lay staring
At natures mirror
Memories invade my gaze
The mirror depicts a face
Staring back
Is this the face of the man I was?
Or the glare of the stonecut man
That I've become?
Etched from marble
Or maybe granite
By the horrors it's seen
This sandy grave consumes me
And my glare turns upward
Inflection of this mind begins
The mirk above does not churn
It does not waver
And I realize I'm alone
The Vast reflects back at the stonecut
Mirroring the emptiness
In his eyes and soul
The realization of internal emptiness
Is deafening in the silent night
Has revenge done this to me?
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 1:21 AM UTC
The sands become my tomb
As I lay staring
At natures mirror
Memories invade my gaze
The mirror depicts a face
Staring back
Is this the face of the man I was?
Or the glare of the stonecut man
That I've become?
Etched from marble
Or maybe granite
By the horrors it's seen
This sandy grave consumes me
And my glare turns upward
Inflection of this mind begins
The mirk above does not churn
It does not waver
And I realize I'm alone
The Vast reflects back at the stonecut
Mirroring the emptiness
In his eyes and soul
The realization of internal emptiness
Is deafening in the silent night
Has revenge done this to me?