These Wishful Mirrors

August 30, 2009
These wishful mirrors reflect,
So as I stand on this clock I realize,
That time has never stood so still,
Cracking the whip on time's whispered hands,
I whip tears into tears to bleed love,
As the mirror near incites superstition,
By evaporating the glass and revealing cracks,
Never shall love surpass it's owner,
Colouring my eyes, I'm dying,
Using confusion as clay,
Molding to heart's form,
Lost in time.

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