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how to smash the mirror…

seeing past the reflection is simple, whether beast or self, through the raining blood or the hardcore dancing around gunshots that violence creates…in the bank of memories, an “empty space”, or maybe what materialistic culture could deem ‘immortality’ for the conscious persona creates undreamed of jewels of wealth and commodity… a particle that will flux through the rest to the forefront…the layers always follow, though confusion strikes when trying to conceive of start or stop, and at times the confusion would function beyond life or death and to or fro…a solid fist through the wall of sleep…detractors of the dead/alive aware with blackened minds, and tortured remnants of essences eternal…awakened by broken shards, the ones that have fallen from their ledge, and made a path to cut the floor…finding ourselves grounded by these wishes and urges that deepen and crawl ever further down…towards the enigmatic swirling maelstrom, the chromosomal furnace, and hurtling into a thunderous chord of lightning…the fist was made to be obeyed…the hard surface of impact…the residual hex left by an inroad to material function, but juxtaposed in front of the layers of self-interest and quirks, making themselves known for their intrusion…Shiva shatters the glass…not to overthrow, but to adjust the balance of power…appropriate necessity to some…the descriptive factors of words defying gravity of stone…the rock and the words are one and the same Here…the battery makes motion happen…stored energy will allow “stone” to sling, trebuchet-style, through the mirror…glory creates its own intrigue…the hands of those that will give relations evoke a symbol calling the angels down into reality like water in the streets…the closest return and rot…symbols spinning in the eyes of the mass…I think I see them in your eyes…

Thanks, khet.