In the realm of dusk, where mirrors tell tales
Stuck between shadows and whispering wails
An image gazes back, but who is it really?
Perhaps a banker’s dream, or a poet’s filly
Reflections seem earnest, not one lie unsaid
We smile with slate teeth, beneath the moon's thread
Echoes of the past, fading, quite mellow
Aren’t we all just echoes, of someone else's cello?
Step through the fog:
Lost in Domain
Phantom of Characters
Void Existence