Mirror on a plain holy wall.
Hello insignificance, his pleasured meet can watch us together now..
The territory thus claimed and framed..
The worker's hands much stained with age..
And his misty forest mind at rest.
Shivered and stopped at a gallant his rise..
Her hands and hair like the frost outside..
Moves in nature at the wind's swing.
The willows swing.
I stand under the hanging dress..
Her face stooped low but,
his face pushed high.
That ravaging battle face hung from the ceiling.
The son watches his mother..hung from that roof in that mirror.
Dies.

He watched his tears in the mirror role down..
the other boy's eyes.

Oh..his mother is dead too!