*About reflecting on your current situation and doubting how things are going in life, but then realizing none of it matters because you have control over yourself no matter how you feel when you think about everything.*
I look into the mirror, unsure of what I see.
Who I am, who I was, or who I will be.
The mirror seems fractured at different angles.
Which side tells the truth?
Am I the protector for those I love?
Am I a redeemer for those in trouble?
Am I a sinner from the black abyss?
Does the brimstone follow in a trail I blaze?
Am I a saint or destined for the wicked ways?
Am I a broken victim, lifeless in despair?
Am I a conqueror, who fixes all beyond repair?
Do I really love all forms of beauty?
Or do I crave the chaos that comes when it fades away?
Will I be a King or take the mantle of jester?
Will I be depressed and wallow without any plan,
Or hide the knowing smile of the tarot’s hanged man?
Destiny may have its own prewritten ends.
But why slave when the means are within one’s own hands.
The means to rise up on a griffin’s wings.
To claim your own treasures, and what you believe in.
Time changes as the days turn different seasons.
So the future shall to, or at least how we perceive it.
Wisdom of an eagle.
Strength of the leo.
As king of the beasts, men should rule and not wallow.
Aspirations of glory play on through my head.
What life is worth having if you let yourself play dead?
Rise from the ashes of broken dreams.
Soar like the griffin, above all things.
Cast out the mirror and its broken images.
They don’t define what a man’s true will is.
Reflections have angles, and eyes can be misled.
But control of it all lies within your own head.