kafka's mirror

Noitome fo smsyxorap ym fo (Yrotagrup ezingocer t'now i) Thgiew nedael eht no htaed ot ekohc ll'uoy ro Erehpsomta ym gnihcuot morf niarfer esaelp (Etaidemretni na ezingocer ton lliw i) Uoy htiw erahs ot ekil dluow I taht (Neewteb ni seidob eht dna, noom eht, nus eht fo) Traeh nellows ym nopu stser taht, rats tniopxis eht s'aimonue (Srepsihw lartsa eht evas lla ot faed ma I) Call me the anti-Narcissus I'll slaughter the mirror, his veins will surely run dry I'll slaughter the mirror, I'll drain his freezing blood I'll drink personification from his preceding lines Metaphysical overexertion, my shattered ego Drowned in that mosquito's puddle Like a narcissus mime, saturate from head to toe With the elixir of amnesia Release my lacrima from the sky I crave the rain of being alive The ichor of miserable creatures I need to fuel my heart's machine Purple rings about my eyes The rings of Saturn were born of frozen tears I see lonely people on that lonely planet Self-centered phantasms of my daydreams I'd like to see the remains of Vladimir Lenin, mummified in the glass case of My shattered watch strewn across an ego's grave The soul manifests within the Soviet purgatory state Eunomia's the sixpoint star, that rests upon my swollen heart (I am deaf to all save the astral whispers) That I would like to share with you (Of the sun, the moon, and the bodies in between) Please refrain from touching my atmosphere Or you'll choke to death on the leaden weight (I will not recognize an intermediate) Of my paroxysms of emotion (I won't recognize purgatory) What separates Earth from Venus Is stupid men and women And a length of empty space Release my lacrima from the sky (I'll rend the fragile limbs of uncertainty) I crave the rain of being alive (Even if it means martyrdom) The ichor of miserable creatures (Anything beats hollow existence on a precipice) I need to fuel my heart's machine (There's no such thing as martyrdom) Purple rings about my eyes (I'll rend the fragile limbs of uncertainty) The rings of Saturn were born of frozen tears (Even if it means martyrdom) I see lonely people on that lonely planet (Anything beats hollow existence on a precipice) Self-centered phantasms of my daydreams (There's no such thing as martyrdom) --- kafka's mirror - acarthrythcy