There was a distortion in the glass
Twisting as it kept the light from meeting your eye
You are impaired;
Blocked of knowing what is of illusion and what is of reality,
But you won’t change your view to see clearly again.
Ignorance is bloody bliss to people like you;
People who refuse to look at the image using a different lens.
By the time you’ve grown to all you are ever going to be…
You can’t see the difference between twisted glass and a clear puddle of rain.
You live in a prism that is refracting colors in all the wrong ways
With the tear-streaked alleys in the form of golden rivers.
All you can do is react in the same way as you’ve done a hundred times before…
But oddly enough no matter which factors are added the end result is the same.
Glass can’t give you strings so you may be controlled
Because are decisions alone create who we are,
But when we can’t see past the fog in our windshield then how do we change.
You can’t keep living this way
With the world being clouded by twisting clouds that won’t let the hidden sunshine come out.
The distortion traps us within its clutches when we are young;
Passed down from those who steered us down the broken path.
A alteration in an picture can create lies that turn into your bent beliefs,
But when it becomes the truth in your mind then we’ve lost hope.
If we don’t stop glass from bending in the heat
Then it will remain that way until it shatters.
I had thought that you could see past the twisted crystal in the same way I did,
But it was clear to me now that the mirror wasn’t the problem.
Words were the flame that started this image to curl into broken truth,
But had ultimately distorted the very surface of your eyes until there was no way to correct it.