Starts as a feeling pure,
This vitreous second sight
Without hallucinating, hating,
Captive of a future bright
Fortune telling-
Honours for madmen only!
Through the looking glass,
And when the glass looks back.
Why is everything to be denied?
That could make life a little bright.
Horrors guessing, exceptional,
Through details all revived.
Aligned in the death wish prismal
The cry
