the mirror of truth
The Mirror of Truth
The face in the crowd worried me; it was still
But the eyes were aglow, showing an intense hatred
to no one, in particular, a man whose dreams had
been disturbed by reality; this is the way it is, and
He is a slave of the conventional, and his lack of courage
to break free from a man who bullies himself and others,
If not rescued, his rage will turn violent.
What bothers him is the familiarity of the face he has seen
It was somewhere before on the surface of the lake
So deep and silty, those thoughts sink to the nethermost
conscience; he has long denied the veracity, which is shocking,
The face is a mirror image of him
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