He stood there unimpressed, combing through the depths, for something he couldn’t find, within the sea of mirrors of the mind.

His reflection unrecognizable, the feeling indescribable. His surroundings felt distorted, the objects contorted, like he had transported.

Mirrors of the mind, how is it defined? He was still unsure, as he tried to endure, his altered realitie’s morbid torture.

He walked through the clouds, the mirrors covered in shrouds. It felt quite wrong, as he walked along, an interlude prolonged.

When the music ensued, he finally felt brand new, what a delightful debut! The wool unveiled, which then revealed, his portrait in great detail.

Mirrors of the mind, he was no longer blind, objects around him began to realign. His reflection translucent, it was a rather intuit, that all he had missed was his attunement.