Probably there's nothing I can do,
If the man in the mirror gawks at me like I'm a fool.
I am only a servant to my people
The man in the mirror is my tool.
I have strived to reach a goal of perfecting my purpose.
Still... I failed to steady my focus.
A knife in my hand and blood on my shirt,
How could ever leave this kind of world?
The warm trickling of blood in my arms,
I savored the feeling, fulfillment at last.
The corpse's death wasn't justified yet,
Inside my head, I'm celebrating the end.
I have found the killer.
I have looked into his eyes.
I have smelled his scent.
The killer is the dead.
The question is "Who killed the killer?"
I looked into my mirror,
Unfortunately, it reflects none.
*Unedited*
