If you awaken behind the mirror,
you find me behind you there,
Turn around to share with me the steps I took to get there.
This shadow has ever been stalking me.
Timing me like a patient scavenger
positioned on my own shoulder.
Praising in my every stumble,
rejoicing in my feeble mortality.
From two I allowed that I be outnumbered.
Repent just means cast a different lot into the circle.
Your pentence while you slept has
separated. awakening.
When you jump out of your looking glass,
better look behind yourself.
Better dropp some breadcrumbs,
better pray for the absence of birds,
Better get Better,
better get yourself home.
Don't you leave me in your dream.
There is always a shadow here.
Buzzard, resting on my own damned finger.
Leeches in the Earth's bloodstream,
Ticks and Tocks and Hands on my own damned fingertips
Timing Me.
Point Plotting this stumle on atleast 10 dimentions
into this one short, feeble mortality.
From two I am outnumbered, no more.
You can have something from nothing,
you just have to wake me up first.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem