Mirror

The swirling, circling shrouds of smokey death
pervade the specks of mystery surrounding this abyss -
Bottomless
                 Soulless
                              Gloom.

Twisting and writhing, the central orbs turn serenely:
a children's carousel
Reversed -
               Decelerated -
                                   Perpetual -

When I see them, fear clots in my blood
Fear of being lost.
Fear of dying
Fear of denying all chances of bliss to myself.

Two dark pools of hell stare through
my vanquished soul
My own deep wells shrink in horror.


I am lost -




Copyright © JRFB 2012