You've heard the story. You've heard the tale of the girl falling through
The looking glass that led to a fantasy land.
But it's not all true. It is not everything it was made out to be.
The actors behind the glass mock us, telling us the stories we only dream about.
They pretend to be us, drawing us into their devilish crisis,
Telling us it is okay to imagine our demise,
We tumble into the portal,
Chasing a rabid rabbit.
It bites.
And as we become infected, the darkness creeps in, flashing lights, floating orbs,
And cursed flowers shriek like a siren, and ****** like a succubus.
The mad hatter is the only sane one compared to us, but he pretends to fit in.
And the queen, she is not as ****** as she is made out to be.
She can teach us how to hide it.
Learn us a thing or two.
Like how to paint your pale lips ruby red.
Like how to smile, even if it is fake; only some care to see the real thing.
And that is the ****** up reality. No one cares about anyone but themselves.
And that's what Alice is for. We fall for it, through the looking glass, and
Trip over our own fallen soldiers.
