The Mirror
A poem about a cursed mirror that shows the worst fears and secrets of anyone who looks into it.
In a room where shadows dance with glee,
There stood a mirror, old as history.
Its frame adorned with twisted vines of despair,
A portal to secrets, a torment to bear.
The Mirror, they called it, a cursed art,
For what it revealed would break the heart.
It held the power to strip souls bare,
Unveiling the truths we often wouldn't dare.
A tarnished glass, so eerily still,
Whispered dark secrets with a wicked chill.
Each face that gazed upon its face,
Found their worst fears, their darkest place.
A maiden fair with eyes so bright,
Saw in the Mirror the coming of night.
Her love would leave her, tears would flow,
As the Mirror foretold, a heartache to grow.
A warrior strong, with armor of steel,
Gazed into its depths, a foreboding ordeal.
In battle, he'd falter, his courage would wane,
The Mirror's curse revealed his deepest pain.
A lonely soul, with hopes long lost,
Looked in the glass, at what it would cost.
The mirror whispered, "You'll die alone,"
A fate so cruel, in a voice like a groan.
But the Mirror, you see, wasn't just a curse,
For some found solace, their fears reversed.
A wanderer lost, without a home,
Saw in the Mirror, a place to roam.
A pauper's child with dreams so vast,
Saw in the Mirror, a future to outlast.
The glass, it whispered, "Your dreams come true,"
A promise of hope, a destiny anew.
The Mirror's power was both a bane and a boon,
Revealing the heartache, and the sweetest monsoon.
For within its depths, the truth was laid bare,
In the eyes of the gazer, a reflection of despair.
So, if you chance upon the Mirror's gloom,
Be mindful of the secrets it may consume.
For it is a vessel of the darkest truth,
Revealing fears and dreams, in the shadow of youth.
In that room where shadows danced with glee,
The cursed Mirror stood, a mystery to see.
A portal to secrets, a torment to bear,
A reflection of souls, in a world unfair.
