"The Mirror"
By R.J. Williamson
Music:
• Fable OST - Temple Of ...
Dreaming deep, I wandered down an old and stately manor's hallways
Past the crumbling marble columns, to a stark and central room -
There a choir of granite angels, aged and weathered, guard a tomb.
Disregarding who was resting in the sacred soil always,
I examined all the angels in her final retinue
One that bore a polished silver mirror struck me - it was new.
“Show me Hell,” I said unto the angel, with her heavy mirror
“Let me see the place of deepest suffering one can endure;
Show me in your mirror.” And she showed a heart, and nothing more.
Peering deep into the silver plane, the image growing clearer,
Reaching out a hand, I touched the bloody, beating organ shown
Then I fell in paroxysm, for the heart had been my own!
Fingers clutching to my chest, where underneath I felt them touching
Nothing less than my own lifeblood, pumping with my very gore!
Crawling on my hands and knees, red fingerprints upon the floor,
I approached the sepulcher the angels guarded, blood now rushing
To my head as I remembered whom the sacred soil bore:
She who made my life worth living, and my days worth waking for.
Here enshrined within the manor of the dreams we made together
Every weathered granite angel bears the face that I adored -
Etched in every marble column, thereupon her name is stored.
In this heart, a Hell of my own making, a forlorn forever
For myself to wait and wander, waste away and dream of her.
From this slumber never waking,
All of Heaven's peace forsaking,
Still upon the Reaper's taking of my soul I wait for her,
Dreaming dreams that never were.
23 май 2024
