Hexagram in the sky
It's just a matter of turning your head.
Turning it up to the sky.
So you need to spare me your reasoning.
Because in the end.
The universe means nothing to me.
For I am already infinity.
See the clouds slit before the mirrors edge.
Scattered on shatter glass.
For all to see.
For all too be.
All I see are the peices of me.
Broken apart before infinity.