• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 04
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Your reflection shows the same old you
Just doing what you always do
Standing on the street, stock-still
Letting your mind wander at will
Clothed in almost fully black
Bar a colourful bag and its strap on your back

Your reflection shows a different angle
Rather than feet on the ground, from above you dangle
Good riddance to that cracked brick road
Grey bricks and browns ones, splashed with gold
You see behind you a gradient
From black so dark, to blue so radiant

I imagine it to be a dreamy thought
To pass through the gates with iron wrought
And float alone, to heart's content
Your mind itself for a best friend
To melt into the landscape and drift far
To run free like a wild deer, race against the stars