Narcissus was hunted, His life abated through reflection ‘Till all that was left was his beauty Stained on the water’s surface, And his tale as a flare in the night For every proud soul.
Thenceforth we shamed ourselves, For every fleeting glimpse at the face Which contains the twinned thoughts of our own. The mirror, now a symbol Of despicable self-assurance, Man’s vain invention.
It is the microphone However; the tool that listens, Clamours attention to every word And breaks in vicious soundwaves, That’s the true measure of vanity, A catapulted voice.
The mirror, used more so As a reflection of our self-doubt And all of the fear people can see. My self-effacing curses, My knowledge of singularity, And total lack of greed.