A Wilderness of Mirrors

An unearthly fog thickens nocturnal’s peaceful aura. Scents of lamenting petrichor mix with slick, decomposing leaves. A disharmonious death knell calls to me, Untying the red strings of fate from the celestial loom. My heart weighs heavy against a faltering ribcage, Standing in front of the wilderness of mirrors. Disembodied voices duplicate— Head spinning, whiplash ensues. Reflections distorted, coated in soot— I've become both saint and sinner. Looking down at my hands, veins darken, Burning from within—realization strikes: I’m the ashes, the smudges obscuring judgment’s view.