[ THE ROOM OF MIRRORS ]
[mirror perspective - death]
the bell rings again. ‘i know’. it cannot be avoided.
the ringing sound ponders in the mirror room.
in the mirror room: back and forth, in between.
when you look at it, you see reflection upon another.
the human scope only sees the mere, but in actuality,
the array is painfully endless, never-ending.
to be inhuman, is a torturous thing. by staring at
it you slip into the interminable, the unbounded.
every reflection worsens after image within image within
image, even the slightest things bring reminder, of the death of me.
though there are small openings for temporary escape
‘i know’ it cannot be avoided
but someone, just pull my head out of it. please