The blackened mirror hangs on the wall
and whispers my name with a soft call
Like the wind, it rustles my brain,
its hauntingly familiar voice I distain
"Come and see what lies within,
what's bound to come and what's already been,
but when you look you can't forget,
'cause what is seen will then be set."
I shield my eyes in fear alone
'cause I don't want this set in stone
but hunger for truth boiled deep inside
and spilled across this body of mine
I saw the darkest part of you
and realized there's nothing I can do

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

The greatest grief for a writer is to lose the connection with the pen and the paper.