Havent named it yet, any suggestions????

In the lost corridor,
of forgotten hopes and dreams,
hangs a mirror i see everyday,
and everyday i look into that mirror and see a vague figure,
a vague figure of nothing.
The unpolished surface of the ancient cabinet,
rots blankly in front of my eyes,
as the time slowly ticks by.
In the lost corridor,
of forgotten pasts and memories,
hangs a mirror i see everyday,
and everyday i look into that mirror and see a vague figure,
a vague figure of a self-seeking soul,
the wrench of decay,
sneaking through the precarious floorboards,
haunts the obliterated recollections of rooms.
In the lost corridor,
of forgotten fears and depression,
hangs a mirror i see everyday,
and everyday i look into that mirror and see a vague figure,
a vague figure of me,
trying to get out of this locality,
stuck in this f u cking corridor,
found again by me.