Mirror, Mirror
An old poem about reflections
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who’s the least perfect of them all?
Who has tears all on her face,
Whose scars forever bring disgrace.
What has a heart that’s lost its beat,
Skin and bones that refuse to eat?
Whose memory is etched into charred skin?
Whose love of life is now a sin?
.
Mirror, mirror, please, I beg
Spill the secrets scraped from the bottom of the keg.
Give me truth! Give me death.
Let me hear the secrets on his breath.
I know they're there, caught in his teeth,
Wrapped around his throat, a noose like a wreath.
Feed me dismal dreams and ugly despair,
Power my fears and horrific nightmare.
.
Where is the beauty I see on your glass?
The flipping waters and poison gas?
Draw me in, draw me closer to the edge,
Break my soul and make me pledge
To shatter my surface like the spider lines
Crawling across your surface like wretched vines.
Where is the wonder in your dark depths?
Is there any or is it just empty deaths?
.
There is nothing, is there?
No water, no dreams, no crisp, fresh air.
The seas are turbulent never calm
And the skies of my soul are filled with bombs.
I am simply waiting for the flash,
The pain that will make me thrash.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Is there a future or have we lost it all?
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Thanks for reading this one! It's from the vault. This poem is actually over ten years old. Never did anything with it until now! Hope you guys like it :)
About the Creator
Silver Serpent Books
Writer. Interested in all the rocks people have forgotten to turn over. There are whole worlds under there, you know. Dark ones too, even better.
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