I was told i cross the bridge backwards,
as i pull myself back into a mirror.
The claws behind my head lock,
im cold, stone stiff, harder than a rock.
A number of diamonds, rings, and words-
are whispered to one worm to carry out my world.
The heads keep breaking, and tails keep faking,
a child holds my mind while a father awaits my waking.
Once i gain status towards my passion,
my voice will whine and fame will shine.
My charisma will pour as wine,
and i will forget the worth of a dime.
I woke to a kiss of bliss on my head,
"To carry out your world" the butterfly said,
to carry out a whisper ahead,
to carry out the thoughts from my bed.