Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Within the coldness of winter,

There is the emptiness of its call,

Within the warmth of summer,

There is the emptiness of its call,

Within the hidden world inside my head,

There is the emptiness of its call,

Do not mock my words,

Do not treat me as a lesser,

Do not make fun of my schism,

For I hear what you disregard,

I notice that which you look past,

I feel what you have built callouses against,

Tomorrow,

Today,

Yesterday,

The harmony of ignorance,

Dispel what you are made to understand,

And accept the truth,

Accept the reality of what actually is all,

Accept your mirror without reflection,

a window through my eye…