smoke and mirrors


// All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts //

The curtains close.
The Act ends.
Scene.
They are all you.
You see your bloody face.
They don't have different faces.
Bloody mirrors around you on all their faces.
Reflections held up against you.
The faceless crowd sees you.
Who are you?
Deaths are fixed points in time.
Your lips cannot move.
Your eyes are screaming.
The tears are burning.
You're sweating blood.
The sky is too bright.
The mind is too dark.
They forgot to close your eyes.
You are a dead man arriving at your last destination.
You're carried by strong, crying figures.
Your hands hurt.
Your legs atrophied, but they don't know.
You forgot to breathe.
Headache.
Alive.
(now read from the bottom to the top)

smoke and mirrors
Written by Yash Raj Talan

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