Enclosed in the looking glass are we humans,
Constantly searching for something long gone.
We did not know the sun when it was young,
And as it set it began to age into apocalypse.
And the hunters, vice and virtue
Would collapse under the weight of time,
Reluctant to hear the whispers of the past
For it would waste their precious days.
Enclosed in the looking glass are we humans,
Constantly searching for love in long dead eyes;
Turned the cracked mirror in hand
And peek through oblivion --
I heard the wind whisper the past to me,
But ran away in fear of wasting the precious sun set,
For we were both young once.
