The Fly in My Eye is a reflection of an illusion. It is the mirror of my creature self declaring itself as real to the eye of the beholder. Yet the human self would fade away into its parent nothingness but for the trance of the image it beholds. Enamored of its own appearance, regardless the truth of the echo, the affair with the dream continues. Narcissus sees himself time after time in the clouded pond and falls for it; hook, line and sinker. He...
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Poetry