No one is there still, as I spiral down forever searching, but never finding the hole though, this endless house of mirrors of my mind. But still I try on as my soul dies for escape, out of this hell of confusion, but still everywhere and anywhere I look, all I see is my changing reflection. For no one is there for me still, it can't always be like this, I hear forever echoing though my head, but their simply appears to be, no way out for me to see clear, though my hell I've created, of stained colored glass mirrors, that lie within the giant cathedral, that is the glory of my minds own home. It is only my refection, that is real in my minds eye, its the only constant change, in this pinball like machine of misery, that is the created thoughts of my mind. In my isolation I've found my true love, that my mind has created just for me, so my heart of hearts may have love. But my soul is still trapped inside myself, as something has gone terribly wrong, the devil has played one trick to many, in this forever maze of mirrors, that is all of my mind sees so clearly.