Mirror mirrored on the wall, what's to be learned if thy should fall? Through shards of glass as crumbling sand, I see bloodstained folly within my hand. To save thy image is to sully my own; A recompense of flesh and bone.
Mirror mirrored within my soul, to what purpose does living hold? Making mountains from mortuaries to stem the surge, of the emotions left from feeling's purge. To smash thee too, carries weight of death; But what less is lost of Maker's breath?
Mirror mirrored midst skies above, I privy thee for thy winged dove. A soul to take, and make anew; Divining grace with seeds of truth. Elimination fleeting from, as alpha and omega too are one. Ceaseless eternity's hourglass binds broken sands, again, at last.
