"Your Reflection"
Stirred beneath in the well unholy,
blood in something of a wine,
as though the life and death of one
you could within the soul confine.
Powerless to stop it,
you let the hate persist,
the utter pain you feel of which
you so determinedly insist.
The wounds that you inflicted
whilst they tormented you and jeered,
to change you into one of them,
'till you've become the thing you've feared.
You said you'd never let it happen,
'said you'd put it to an end,
but the truth was all too painful,
not you enemy, nor your friend.
Mirrors stand for all that's truth,
as cruel as they may be,
the beauty within everyone
is all they want you all to see.
Yet you stood before the mirror,
took the image you were holding
and watched the damage you inflicted
- its grotesqueness now unfolding.
And now you cannot recognize
the person that you are.
I often see you wondering
'how did it get this far…?'
But I know how this happened,
you share the same regrets as some;
you'd lost yourself within the lie
of who you must become.
And now you want the real you back,
go ahead – you think it's worth the try,
but if one thing is for sure, I know,
your reflection can't, and does not lie.