Illusion

The darkness caged in silver strands,

Lifeless tendrils twisting,

Frosty vines crawling,

While trying to claw away the lingering black,

The bony arms caress your skin,

Red, bright among the dreary moors,

Glazing your arms against the glass coffin,

You feel the ebony sockets stabbing the golden eyes,

Dripping blood floats in vacuum,

Glistening among the midnight world,

Starless skies, hollow arms,

Poking into plump skin with its withering fingers,

On the other side of the mirror,

Your sky is bright, breeze flowing,

But all that is visible is endless dark velvet,

Deeper than tar, the pattering rain on your head,

You know there is no hope,

Because you see past the Illusion.