Thousand Shards of MadnessThere is no running nowIn a world that is full of mirrorsIn a room where she is never alone, staring at versions of herself that reflect nothing but insecurities. Reflections of the promise of something shiny and new. How quaint, a thousand versions of the same beautiful lie.A promise of something better, whispered in her ear, but only if she knows how to break free.But wouldn't break refer to the same old routine of things done lives past? She could break all the mirrors. Breaking them would force the lie to escape, it would allow it to roam free - whispers floating in her ears. Taunting, teasing, promising that the grass is most definitely greener on the other side.All it would take is a few simple seconds, in which time stands still, and the world which was once so full of mirrors, shatters irrevocably.The scattered glass laying for lonely on the floor.It looks like madness...A thousand shards of madness.