who is that staring at me through the mirror,
so familiar,
yet estranged and disfigured,
maybe a older version of Bonafide,
or a wiser person peering back at me;
who is that peeping deep into the windows of my soul,
searching for the forbidden hidden answer...
oh i think its change,
no on second thought its the lost sheep
searching for the true shepherd
to guide me to the path of righteousness,
God's gift,
granted to me for being born into sin,
but then again maybe it's just my dreams
that morph into nightmares that keep my fears
aware that my future reflection is unprepared
to declare that the rapture is here,
passed by like a thief in the night;
and now the only image that remains
is me the revolutionary warrior breed to
forever remain battling the flames and
dodging decapitation;
my life is lined up on the mirror...
and I'm not going to blow it....
