I look into the tube glass

The reflection glares back

Black eyes resemble the darkness that resides in my cold soul

One might be scared by the image that resides in the truth of the glass

An image of truth

A nhilised portrait of self

I question the truth of the portrait

The truth of love and loss and the truth of the world

Please quit and give me peace

BRAINGOD give me peace.

 

Robin Woodward