I caught myself peering through the haze,
Weary of the dark,

The dull glaze of my mirror silently stares back,
From the black, I speak tales of the maze of my mind,
I find, till yet this day has failed to share the  unrequited love for myself,
For my sense of self, I delve into the skies,

The dull shine, just over there,
The longer I stare, It just becomes stranger,
Which one is me? Which one is real?

Am I the reflection? Or am I the stranger?

~Robert van Lingen