Self-

When you look in the mirror do you see yourself,
or are you confused seeing something else.
Do you see where you stand, or nothing at all,
are you running face first right into a wall.
Does your shadow need you, or do you need it,
or does the sun's light rays bow and exit.
Stand where you are, for you are where you stand,
the sun makes light yet shadow's for man.
If you sit real still but your mind runs fast,
calm yourself down there's no future or past.
Being some place but you minds in another,
a nuclear war you simply try to cover.
A blood stained sword and guns take aim,
the terrible truth, this is one sick game.
But the path is true with twists and turns,
it cant be straight or nothing learns.
Blood and tears run down the streams,
yet make the stage for goals and dreams.
Crashing and banging a rhythmic tune,
words ring out like a soaring balloon.
Beautiful fields with a rising sun,
near the black of night that's soon to come.
A crimson blade held by the reaper,
surrounds my work darkness is its keeper.
My work of hand connects to voice,
crossing meadows and streams fireworks rejoice.
Piercing red eyes so close to the sand,
chaos at the center shows its dark hand.
Infecting the stones that are on the shore,
trying to alter the balance of more.
But the hand of life also reaches out,
to grab hold of the mirror filled with doubt.
Chaos is the middle in this frame,
but its not the core, God is its name.