SUNSHADE MIRROR (A FANTASY)

We could be as it were, truly lost in our self-deceit
living on and under the requiem for fantasy
illusions that skate gently in haphazard contempt for morality

The greatest lie is that which points the finger proclaiming such.

Simple slave, after petty martyr

all loss for life, it left these shallow halls without an echo!

For not the faintest flick of the wrist shall spring forth,

as you weren't worth the moisture of my tongue’s movement, nor release.

If funeral shall come, it was the bravest and wisest who shall attend.

Not in tears, but the velvet lining that has condemned them as bedding sweet.

Sleeping in the ever so clenching hands of eternity and not a man, nor sin is spun.

The quilted shambles of life you shall insert. 

My heart has but been birthed………… the shade that creates a sun.