Your past is an illusion, a trick of your memory
Your future an illusion, a trick of your dreams
Your mirror is a silver storm of confusion
Nothing is as it seems

You are stranded on a blue mountain
Between beauty and pain
Looking up and kneeling
Burning in the rain

Walking down your haunted ground
You come across the people you used to be
The selves you lost and the selves you found
The ghost of you mirrored in eternity – Nash Nausher