I look to the old house
It's not possible to live in it
But I saw that the stories had been alive
Against too long pebbly distance
There was a huge wall
Road to the realism's door
Broken mirrors make the illusion
Life is like a broken reflector
Life is cruel
Imagining life in the mirror
This house was foggy and depressed
Inside, it was much dense
Cobwebs represent the years
I don t understand some facts
Why am I here?
What am I doing?
But don’t abstain from taking steps
Broken mirrors make the illusion
Life is like a broken reflector
Life is cruel
Imagining life in the mirror
Invisible silhouettes are everywhere
I can’t see but I can feel
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