The world does reflect us/
we gaze ourselves in cruel fate.
Life is like a house of mirrors
but only it's darker, twisted side.

Tasteless, worthless souls we are -
lost like widowed swans.
Trying to fly, yet we fall
with our souls all torned apart.

Blessed with a hearts
which don't scream -
they do softy sing.

Sing, like the goddesses do,
the forces of everything.

We fall like the holy ones
and rise like our faults.

What comes around it goes around.

As above so below.