The Being in There.

Another being,
fresh with blood.
Pale with dark black circles.
Fills my sight,
every rebirth of gold.
It's even there,
during its death.
Its subtle whispers,
telling of truths.
Truths I know,
in heart and betrayal.
Pester and fester,
poke if you will.
Not even time,
grays your message.
“I know”,
with force I scream.
“I know”,
I sing.
Look away at the wall,
“breath”.
Open my eyes,
there you are…
In your vile prison,
reflecting flawed detail.
Who are you?
the being in there.