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Through everything she’s been through, I still love her.
She’s seen hell.
She has endured violation of her body.
Came out of war with scars.
I still love her.

She had fought through a battle of immense depression.
Withstanded the whips of oppression.
She rose through the whole fight.
To become a queen in her own right.

Her personal battles inspire me.
Because she’s tougher than me.
They inspire me to be better for her.
For I could’ve lost my love at any moment.
Her survival makes her more beautiful to me.

I don’t love her less because of what happened.
My heart aches for her pain.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time?
She has.

And I still love you.
Whenever you rise from your pain, I rise from mine.
Through everything, I loved you.
And I will still love you.
She walks in beauty and with elegance.
But I cannot seem to reach for her lips.
She leaves to go on her annual trips.
When she’s gone, I fill up with helplessness.
I will never feel such a blessedness
Until her restless green eyes come back here.
Losing her is the only thing I fear.
Just the mere thought fills me with dreadfulness.

The baroness came to grant me a kiss.
My heart skips a beat as she walks towards me.
Her radiant smile burns into my soul.
Spirits combined for a moment of bliss.
Our love shall last, it was meant to be.
To be joined at last, to become a whole.
As my reflection stares at me, I notice all the things people say about me.
I gaze upon the same face everyone sees.
Is there something beyond the mirror?
A world I am not aware about?
What happens to my reflection when I leave?

I am scared of my reflection.
The same eyes staring back at me.
Knows my every move, every thought, every sight.
But what does my reflection see through its mirror?
The same backwards world I live in?

Sometimes I wish I could walk through the mirror.
Live the life of my own reflection.
Switch places with myself.
The undiscovered country resides right in front of my eyes.
Yet it appears to be far away.

What life is my reflection living?
My own? Or someone else’s?
To live like lost lepers loitering around on a lost island.
What life lurks beyond that mirror of mine?
For when I leave, shall I experience it?
Will I finally get my answer?

As I stare back at my reflection, I notice all the things it stays to remind me about.
I gaze about the same face everyone sees.
I need to know what is beyond.
Beyond the mirror.
The cold, brittle air slaps my cheeks.
Assaults my eyes
Numbs my fingers.
When the snow falls around me
I feel as if I’m in a winter wonderland.
Nothing but white.
The pure white blanketing the ground

The eyes of winter are cold and unnerving.
Bitter with an icy stare.
But behind that visage,
Is a gentle soul who begs to be loved.
Through her cold heart, there is beauty.
For those who don’t know or who are too ignorant to see.
For those who are curious and wish to learn more about me.
For those who have artificial eyes.
I may be broken.
I may be broken in more places than one, but listen to me.
Let me explain myself to you.

Scars sprint all across my body.
Burns ravish my skin.
Those who fear me don’t know their origins.
I wish to tell but they won’t listen.
I try but my words are always blocked by the sounds of footsteps running away.

Don’t let my appearance be the reason why you are afraid.
Under this tortured, beaten, damaged, wanting shell;
Is a person who wishes for a friend.
You my lady, are a work of art.
Eyes are dots of blue.
A different shade on each side.
It brings out the elegance of your smile.
Such perfect teeth; brighter than the white light.
I love when you laugh.
A song with every melody, crescendo and harmony.
Your hair, formed from a painter’s every stroke.
Deep, rich, saturated yellow.
Hands crafted from a god-like sculptor.
A female Cupid, ravishing, alluring and arresting.
Mysterious and occult.
Your figure puts every other to shame.

Only a few can understand your mind.
Get lost in translation and they get left behind.
To know your thoughts, to keep and grasp
For longer than forever, that is a difficult task.
Your mind is a motion picture masterpiece.
Every thought a scene that is picture-perfect.
Each character is perfectly developed.

It has everything I want, everything I need.
A beginning, middle and an ending.
An intriguing plot without an evil fiend.
Something I could watch over and again.
It wins every award in my eyes.
Every single one, every single prize.

You contain an unbridled spirit.
Like a child, always active.
It cries out its primal scream, I hear it.
You shouldn’t be contained, you should be free.
Only then will your spirit call out to me.
Your soul adorns your personality.
It soars high above like a bird.
No one should ever keep you captive.
That person is a fool if they try.
She’s jubilant, expressive, full of energy.
Never tired, hyperactive.
Without my medium, I’ll fall apart.
Because you my lady, are a work of art.
To understand me, you have to be me.
Live my life, learn how I work.
To see things in a different light.
Create plans and work every day and night.
Noone sees the world like me.
To find its secrets and passages like me.
I love in a strange way to others.
But to me, it’s the most simplest thing.
Never. People never learn to love me for who I am.
But they wish for me to change.
I’ll never change.
Maybe to fool everyone, I should lose my former self.
Become insane.
My words convey my story.
My actions show my life.
Because to understand me, you have to be me.
For there is a method in my madness.
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