The Lands Between The Mirror

In this strange, strange world,
Where pollution was a myth,
Where the ocean was in the skies,
And hell a physical abyss.

The sleeping sun lay to the west,
Forever drowning us in twilight,
Floating islands sway to winds,
Held by chains lest they drift out of sight.

Rivers that flowed endlessly,
Clear water running off the edge,
Hear them roar in synchronicity ,
As they fall to the land of the dead.

Autumn and spring,
No longer exist,
Eternal summer lay to the west,
And winter to the east.

Under summer magenta skies,
Stars glittered in the sea,
Warm breezes caress the fields,
And play with the little bees.

Cloaked in clouds, thick fogs and mist,
Where light could never again reach,
A place where time did not exist,
The frozen lands that lay to the east.

And down below,
Where darkness reigned supreme,
Trapped by rock and stone,
Was a prison you could never leave.

A dreaded place,
Where even spirits cower in fear,
There were just some things,
That one was never meant to hear.

Echoes of pain,
Amplified throughout the trench,
Manipulating one's mind,
Let the lunacy commence.

As beautiful as it may seem,
It is what it isn't,
And isn't what it actually is,
Which isn't something you could lessen.