Smoke and Mirrors

After all it's just smoke and mirrors
scattered thoughts shattered hopes
lost in the tangled twisted branches
found only in the depths of the forest
far from your eyes, from the open skies
almost out of sight of even my own seeing

Why do I wander off the path at all
knowing as I do the danger, the allure
the drawing in to the heart of the forest
where the dappled light has a dark tinge
and the path tapers off to nothingness
leaving me no sense of direction or time

And time is passing in ways not usual
dulled as the canopy hides the setting sun
or the rising moon for I can see neither
as I circle about in the deepening gloom
turning glass into bottle and then into two
with determination to obliterate thought

To run from an awareness of one's self
is a form of madness that takes practice
which is one thing I've had plenty of
arrogant pride in my ability to hide
and indulge again in this wasteful place
back amongst the deceptive lies of my heart

The branches here offer such strange comfort
a seeming embrace, a yielding roughness
a familiar feel of silent recrimination
a smell of rot that reminds me of myself
and returns me to some semblance of sense
seeing clearly despite the inky blackness

That the heart of the forest is heartless
a deep well in which to sink our own despair
thinking that we're leaving ourselves behind
only to catch sight of our own reflection
it seems smoke and mirrors only do so much
fleeing into this heart takes it's own toll

A gloom can seem even darker than it is
the entanglement of branches binding us
and yet this illusion is just more smoke
even reflections can be deceptive at best
this person in the mirror is the lost one
dark eyes speaking wetly into the silence

I have been a forest dweller for too long
wasted many days wandering in the depths
taking myself away from the person that I am
or could be if only I stay under open skies
not hidden away but seeing and being seen
sunrise comes to steal this darkness away