Broken Glass

Shattered reflections

In broken glass

Just can’t bear to see

What is real, what is false?

Face lined with pain

Sorrow and heartache

Borrowing trouble

Or the smiling visage

Presenting to the world

Carefree and Nar-do-well

The truth is in the middle somewhere

But could true medium exist

When joy and sorrow war?

Perhaps Viviane meant the sword

To destroy this world of seeming

Feint copies, automatons

Merely wound up, marching along

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Dagger's Edge

Dagger’s Edge

Sometimes my feet get bloody

My balance is not quite level

But the ground below is muddy

I’d end up completely disheveled

It’s harder then walking on eggshells

At least, on that you know the score

For eggshells crush rather easy

They are simply the spoils of war

But balancing on the dagger’s edge

Playing both sides at once

You never know which bet to hedge

Relying on luck and impudence

There’s always a side to favor

Someone who wants to win

Never taking time to savor

Only looking for the next sin

The only winners are failures

The only triumph is loss

Truth is no longer my savior

To bear this is my cross

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