Mirror, My Heart

Silver glass, my only friend,

Whisper softly where youth must end.

The bloom has gone, the rose has dried,

Her shadow walks where mine has died.

I see her face — my sweetest curse,

The child that blooms while I disperse.

I call the darkness, my design,

To cut her heart and make it mine.

Mirror, my heart, what have you shown?

The fairest lies on a bloodstained throne.

Mirror, my heart, why must beauty be pain?

Why must the rose outlive the rain?

I reach through glass, I bleed, I fall —

The fairest of all shall answer my call.

Cold winds sing in a forest deep,

I lie awake while the shadows creep.

The world is kind, yet torn by grief,

The thorns still guard the dying leaf.

Seven souls who call me “child,”

Their hands are rough, their hearts are mild.

I dream of love through twilight’s veil,

Where truth is sweet and mercy frail.

The mirror hums, the night grows thin,

I hear her voice beneath my skin.

Mirror, my heart, why must beauty be pain?

Why must the rose outlive the rain?

I reach through dreams, I break, I fall —

The fairest of all shall answer the call.

Crimson fruit and ivory hands,

A promise sealed in cursed lands.

“Take, my dear, a taste divine,”

And sleep shall make your heart like mine.

The apple breaks — the music dies,

A teardrop falls from lover’s eyes.

The forest weeps, the glass grows dim,

Her soul drifts down — a requiem.

Mirror, my heart, can the dead still dream?

Can love revive what shadows redeem?

The kiss of dawn, the spell undone,

The fairest awakens beneath the sun.

And in the glass, the Queen’s eyes fade —

No crown remains for what she’s made.

Beauty and sorrow, both depart —

Still I hear the mirror… my heart.