Veracity, Tyrant and Reality

My cold tongue has never tasted the enchanting taste of feat;
of getting somewhere, just an endless path made by God,
carved by Destiny and molded by Ominous power. I run
and run from the storm, with an urge to uncover the truth whether
the Sun owns the sky or the crystal Moon has conquered the Sun.
I fall but not on the ground but in the capacious, dusky,
gloomy cave full of mirrors.

One mirror shows me on fire and ashes rising above the cave 
forming a dove; breaking through the ceiling of cave. All the
anger wasn't washed up by the rain, sleeping pills were never
strong enough to make me fall asleep like being too selfless
after hearing the screams of children in Sham. Ocean of dignity
dried when Cain killed Abel. Shine on that mirror resisting
me to see the truth, that mirror is the mirror of Veracity.

Another mirror behind me; chills run through my bones as I heard the
whispers of those known voices coming from scarcrow, they are still there
and I never made a move. Like wolves they were, hiding behind the bushes,
breathing heavily, feel it, they are ready for an infinite war. In the mirror all is dark,
as dark as the night when I heard the lullaby of nightingale; is the mirror of Tyrant.

Tezcatlipoca showes me a mirror, which was clear image of me; cutting the herbs
which wrecked a red radiant rose. Time was there and it freed my wings. Ominous 
power; whose strings were in my hand now. That mirror was Reality.
I fly up above the cave, up above the hate and light from my
wings vanquished the storm. Mild air now lifts my hair as I float
between the Sun and the Moon just shining.