Tripped in the mirror
And saw looking back
A sly fox
Of the swamp
Red of face,
Clad in black
But felt trapped
In his own
Little cage
And ensnared
By the various demons
Aware he was scared
Of how long in his lair
He had barely prepared
To go where
So few others
Discovered
Or dared
To return
With so little to show,
Teach or learn
But the churning
Internals
He yearns to discern