• Mirror, mirror, on the wall who is this before me,
    White, pale image with no life that remains,
    A heart that has been broken and will never be free,
    A curse that love never sustains.

    This image turns into my mind,
    White, pale, never moving, but so familiar,
    In this time and day she looks so kind,
    And she and I look so similar.

    Her voice sounding so distant in my ears,
    Making me shutter as I hear her words of pain.
    My stomach trembling as the voice became clear,
    She has spoken her words in vain.

    Could it trully be,
    That the person in the mirror is me?