I'm used to looking at the black mirror in a daze.
I tried my best to reflect my appearance through the reflection of the mirror.
But the turbid mirror cannot reflect the light.
It was dark all around.
Just like the darkness I am used to.
I'm in the abyss I'm accustomed to.
The touch of mud, the touch of being wrapped.
And in this abyss,
Loneliness cannot penetrate my skin.
The mirror I am accustomed to looking into.
In a dark abyss.
No one will come and tell me,
Here in the dark.
There are no mirrors at all.
Intention: existence