I have watched the shadows creep, and gather, wreathing stealthily
about the bright, and shining golden hopes that once, you shared with me;
and, as if... through a mirror, darkly; lit by candle, flickering pale,
the hoping softly slips away, and only darkness still prevails.

The mirror is all foxed and misty; I cannot make out your face.
I cannot reach out to touch you in this shadowy, shuttered place
to where you have retreated; for such words I have, are trapped, it seems
within this spider's web of cracks all traced across the mirror's sheen.

Despoiled and foggy; lost of substance; this reflection seems to be
now, little more than vain illusion; seems to shimmer mockingly,
whispering 'Your heart misleads your mind... oh, fool... can you not see
there never was a "You" and "Her"... it was a selfish fantasy.'

There is no depth now, in this mirror; it is, but a frosted screen.
I cannot see into its heart; concealed behind the hopes and dreams
all seemingly, so shattered; strewn about the depths; lost from my view,
so, was there really nothing there at all? Did I so misread you?

As if then, through a mirror, darkly... I reflect a fractured dream;
a hope, for what we might have had; now lost forever, it would seem.
So, to this mirror of my heart, there really is no more to say
and, nothing left for me to do;
but quietly turn...
and walk away.