Dust choked mirror reflects dark sunken
orbs beneath crescent moon halves
mutated skin wrists hang from frail
fractured limbs of tormented sinew

I've been here before & I know the routine
I've seen this before & I know what it means

Luna disc penetrates silver shards
across splintered boards of decline
concentric circles of aching frown sends
ripped muscles into relentless spasm

I've been here before & I know the routine
Three hundred & sixty degrees
Right back down on my hands & knees
Three hundred & sixty degrees

I've seen this before & I know what it means
Three hundred & sixty degrees
Right back down on bloodied knees
Three hundred & sixty degrees

Skeletal digits stab jagged points into
broken face lingering in hopeless gawp
déjà vu taunts & amplifies grief
filled pearls of salt stinging open wounds

I've seen this before & I know what it means
I've been here before & I know the routine

Stiffened facial expression of faith lost man
known as beast where little else compares
dwelling within on the fringe of the brittle &
crumbling wall of inner haunting & remorse

Arc of hatred paints impure line across
hoarse & exposed chords of sound
gurgled grin of remembrance falls silent
as tobacco stained breath expels existence