Beyond the Grave of Perception
He looks at the mirror and frowns at the image
‘Is it the glass or my face that lies shattered?’
Fault lines burrowed into borrowed time
Tim wonders about censorship and cracks
He sees a crossdresser between sadness and joy
A veil of burnt out darkness and shiny spectacles
Quorum of insanity and intense beauty alike
Bedlam carving out a picture of madness
Frowns and scars adorn past vision of duels
Of minds and a sword of common dissent
A freckle hidden under three-day stubble
Shadows of sleepless nights in despair
They say it is the persona or mask of retreat that
Enacts the drama of living enhanced by oozing
Wounds of battles long gone with no victor
But the lonely survivor who he has become
The looking glass reflects upon wrinkles and blotches
Attempting to scratch out disfigured pit falls of thoughts
Discoloured from jagged emotions at face value
Shades of discontent imprinted on countenance
As Tim tries to make sense of deceitful senses
Divulges the distorted prism that he has become
The mirror cracks into mute darkness and doubt
There is no escape and the trap door stays shut
When eternity of his ragged convulsion has passed
He decides that cutting through insurmountable walls
With a razor would only heap more meaningless blood
Whereas accepting containment can be a close shave
He pierces the conception of failure and reassembles
Broken shards into a mosaic of dis-ambiguous beauty
‘I am who I was and will reassign polarity to the centre’
He marvels in ink of realignment and scribes a way forth
01st December 2019
Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2019
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