I seek to connect with the divine,

yet all I find are mirrors of the mind.

Tetherd in a frame so fragile,

Allowing me to think more agile.

I think to craft a better life,

And so I conjure up a butcher knife.

To slash my eyes out of the mirror scraping-off reflective glass,

Until it resembles diamond ash.

Carve the weakness from my mortal mind,

And let the spirit wander blind.

For that seems to be the only way

To hush the voices in my brain,

Thus I established inner peace,

And now the divine seek out me.