I stare out into the night-drenched countryside beyond the train window
But there is no world to be seen.
All is gone, like the hopes of youth.
The black pool of glass stares back at me with my own eyes
A ghostly reflection of my own cursed visage
Bathed in the golden light of fluorescent strips from decades past
Like the holy aura of a lauded saint
Effervescent before the sins of man.
Those eyes accuse me of a wasted life
And I accuse them of dreams outside my reach
While darkness mediates between us.
Our silent complaints are lost to the void
Like the lives of men in the choking night.
Then, the birth of a cosmos in a thousand lights
As stars of humanity cast away the other me
Scouring my soul of reflection
And leaving me to face the tides of reality alone.