The Mirror Sees Only Itself

The corpse of this world has been easy to find it has followed my footstep, and yet, beauty is here to astound its glory confounds. A bell in a towering light knell's as it weds death to life - the hideous to the beautiful. The loathsome spins its exquisite webs, The world nurtures both nectar and venom, perceptions sleight of hand mocks and bedazzles. One beholding eye always opening, one always closing, while my beggar's bowl is emptied and washed again, and again.