The Inside Scriptures

Bring those pieces of mirror back, hold them tight,
 until the blood runs on your vein and colors the pale:
 watch but never trust the mind, who play the tricks?
 Oh, I play the tricks.
 Putting my fingers and checking if all
 the marks are still here, I read myself.
 I could read inside you with my hand and know...
 Now motivated by revenge and violence.
 Those hands were indentity assasins,
 without removing skin, but letting what is within to break out.
 Deep ocean without waves or tide, heartbeat as pulse generator,
 two kings with broken masks, Janus sharing same breath,
 ruling over broken bones, where now childless mothers cry alone.
 Land of the missing and shadows,
 buning spheres above and below, cover sins; deny they exist.
 Blood is the only stream, the only flow; sing yor farewell to love.