The image isn't reflected
It is backwards,
Upside down.
A mirror -
In reality clear glass.
Alternative ending,
Like a nightmare
Everything is the same
But with hidden motive.
With clear vision
The two are obviously
Opposite.
The truth is buried
Behind lies.
If only the hiding place
Had been found
But the hand had reached
And turned the light out.

Stumbling through the dark
The idea of home seems
Comforting
The delusions which cloud the mind
Fill the emptiness
And answers the questions
Creating artificial light.
Easy enough
To mistake the small circle of heat
Which radiates from a bulb
With the encompassment
Of a roaring fire
When you never before
Experienced - warmth.
Desperately seeking,
The compromise seems
Excusable.
The only regret is this -
Blinded and tainted
The true flame,
Invisible
Because a glow had cloaked
The darkness,
Was not found sooner.