Mira Mira!

Why does life have to be so complicated?

Life goes like a spiral tree that offers no straight path

Why should people face trouble?

Trouble forges the true man, and he has the choice to ruin or make himself lest fate wants him to be the bad guy

What does Mira see beyond the eyes of man?

All Mira sees is a frosty path ahead, its beauty captivating her with the icicles and the satisfying crunch in the snow that grates her ears with irritating pleasure

No, the physician sees fire and coals that burn the average person, and they offer the visible solution, yet their sight diminishes beyond the transcendental universe

Do we not like people brimming with unbridled passion and soothing untruths?

Maybe Mira likes the ones that cut through the ice and shatter the cold truths in their brain

How do you see life?

Like the moon sees the stars, always together, yet so different like a knife is different from a machete and procures different emotions in people

Crazy people speak lazy truths

Maybe they like to remove the speck in everyone's eyes that lays so comfortably that it doesn't itch anymore

I want to go Mira and thrive within the snow, filling my heart with ice until I can feel nothing anymore

Why are you not asking the most important question?

You did not answer my question earlier, yet you made another observation

Ask me about the lies in the air, for I cannot tell you what I see, but I can fake what I do not see

How can you be a friend but drive a knife through my heart by denying me what I want to hear?

Why are you the foe who wants to wreck me by forcing my heart to reveal my earthquakes and unleash the burden that lays bare at my chest?

All I throw is a misdirection into the path of your discretion, saving you from your gross inactions

No, you want me to see the snow, but you won't stop until the ice swallows me dry

Mira, thank you for telling me why life is complicated, drawing me closer to your heart

I am the poet here, not you nor your words, so I make the rules

Why does the poet think she can heal herself with her words?

Why should I only listen to the poet's words instead of conversing with her mind?

Mira does not want to listen to the wise words of a foolish sage

Then, let me go to the snow and set my feet in the ice rather than wallow in your scorn and pity

No, burn yourself in the fire, and you will see the firecrackers searing your heart into bite-size pieces of burnt offering

If I cannot heal you, then I can shoot the dagger through your heart

Don't look for me, Mira, you want to save me, yet you can't save yourself

Why would I want to save you when I cannot save myself?

Because you can see the untruths and the steamy lies that make my soul salivate for the world of half-truths

I want to go with you, but the snow is not enough to calm the gunfire in my soul that ricochets around my heart but never sets off

Then, let me ask the most important question, what is my name, Mira?

No, I cannot say your name for I will reveal myself If I say it out loud

Mira, accept the lies, for it is the only way to survive

No, I want to see the fire and the stars, and the snow

Nothing is good enough for you Mira

You should tell that to yourself

Mira, say my name if you think you can face the untruths without breaking your soul

I cannot say your name, for it will break my soul and wreck my ability to see what I cannot tell

Why not? We are one mind Mira, but we just see different sights

I am you no matter how I hide, but I can still protect my truth

Then, Say my name loud and set yourself from the ability to see the truths

No, I am the real Mira and I must save my truths

Mira! Mira! Tell me what do you see?

I see you telling me the untruths to soothe my truths

Say my name, loudly until it reverbates through your ears and floats at the surface of your soul

My name is Mira, and your name is Mira

We are two truths and two lies

Now, I see you walking with me as my friend and foe

Now, we can go to wherever we can call our home