Reflection -rewrite-

From the vanity table, a mirror I held glace upon extremely compelled. A face has shown, was I yet not I, it curses myself to die.

Reflection

By: Adam M. Snow

 

Alone am I this night of flutter;

confusion reigns, so I utter,

"The air is that of a clouded dream;

so dark like that of an ordeal gleam."

 

I wonder where this fancy bestowed me;

in a room, damp it would be.

My vision is blurred by this smoky scene.

I see that of a table, draped of shallow green.

 

I pondered there for a moment, a moment it was;

but apparently a moment too long came abuzz.

It echoes louder, louder atop of that table cloth;

calling to me my once forgotten troth.

 

So heedfully I approach the table with ease,

Seeing afar it covered in bluish frieze.

My vision once blurred now felt clearer;

that vanity table shown an olden mirror.

 

Now from the vanity table, that mirror I now held

I glanced upon myself, now greatly compelled.

A face has shown, was I yet not I,

it curses myself to die.

 

The image that was shown shadowed a vision:

Ye or I inter sweet derision,

o'er thy pass of insanity wake

as much of pain as I could take.

 

The mirror’s shown cracked, as I grown no more.

My heart beats cold as my days be hoar.

I've fallen apart to lose my way;

I am now one in this blackened day.

 

I watch my life now turned to mist;

I, the writer who can't exist.

I am cracked in my own reflection

these wounds are the signs of my affliction.

 

I am one in this reflection shown two;

seeking to make my life anew.

I asked my reflection to be shown;

my truth, my past is left unknown.

 

I ask of thee, "Let it be done."

I am the writer, the lonely one

My reflections, it strains drops of blood;

now engulfing in life's lowly flood.

 

My eyes are stained as I lay cold,

I am weak-bound growing old.

My voice is muted as my heart now breaks;

my body's bounded but my soul still aches.

 

Agony whelms my ever being,

leaving I without a sight for seeing.

Burned into my mind, a vision of pain

as the mirror image curse me insane.

 

To be upon a mirror image,

upon a worldly scrimmage.

My reflection does not show

this truth I do not dare to know.

 

The mirror’s shown cracked, as I grown no more.

My heart beats cold leaving my wounds sore.

I've fallen apart and lost my way;

I am but one in this blackened day.

 

I long for amity among benevolence

a sought after among your prevalence.

I am now we, and we look back;

my ember morn has now grown so black.

 

The mirror is shattered, my image is not;

my demons has shown its devilish plot.

I've been raised yet again to have fallen-

My life, my heart be stolen.

 

My reflection in vision pains

showing I bound by my worldly chains.

I am force to face myself in this state,

the mirror shows, it-is-my-fate.

 

My image is broken yet is whole,

I seek only for my life's role.

I'm reaching through out the dark,

my only light an ember spark.

 

Nevermore will my reflection show;

I'm lost with no place left to go.

The mirror's lust has failed;

is this not where I dwelled?

 

My tears are falling upon my reflection

this holds for me no resurrection.

This cracked mirror now shows only one;

the life in this mirror is nearly done.

 

My reflection, it is not new;

like the mirror it's turning blue.

I, myself gone insane,

I shall not lack in vain.

 

I am not myself, let I be smite;

this is the shine of evil's light.

I only love yet I still hate,

I know now it is my fate.

 

I feared myself, of who I am,

curse me now let thee be damn.

Bow ye not of I with shame,

I'm the one whom to blame.

 

I cannot live like the past,

nor the future of all in vast.

Reviews

[Miss Marie Riorden.]

Long, but that doesn't deter from the fact it's still wonderfully writtern. The rhyming scheme continues flawlessly. It doesn't seem like you had much trouble writing this at all, but that's just me basing soemthing off what I read. The pain throughout the entire thing is layered, it goes deeper and deeper as you read along. The imagery is spotless as if you see yourself staring in a broken mirror
Good job!

-Marie-

[Muse]

You are quite the poet. To look past the reflection, and to see our true self....would be perhaps too disturbing for some.

[Jupiter Jazz]

Wow.. I like the old school..ness of it. It's all Poe meets Yeats. Cool =)

[Brytt]

Love it. It's got a good theme, wonderful rhyme, and detailed imagry. You seem to be skipping back and forth between rythym and chaos, but that may just be the way you want it. It really does create a feeling of "I don't fit in here".

Keep up the awesome work, Snow!

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Fierce sense of structure and key elements that draw your readers in, well penned, a great read.

[Tate Morgan]

A self reflection with perfect rhyme I truly love the rhyme as i like the way it sounds when I read it.It spoke to me of a soul that was turning inwards to look upon the true self I am doing the same we are on the same mission we might as well share the ride

[WynterPhoenix]

This is great poem. Thank you for sharing.

[R J Askew]

Great job, very well executed. The alienation and despair is strong.

[Audrey Howitt]

So well written. It seems like it was effortless to produce --perhaps just flowing out. Lovely job!

[Shelly Braen]

Your piece rolls through the soul like tears from haunted eyes, or the clouds of a great storm that has passed, yet I can still hear the thunder echoing from a distance. It almost feels like an intrusion, yet you still allow us to see such an intimate and painful view. I nearly felt the mirror crack and the heart tear. Such despair. So raw, cold and drifting. Your eyes must have a beautiful story to tell. It is not often that I come upon such a gripping piece, so finely executed, so much of an old soul. Brilliant, simply brilliant.

[Demi Rose]

u wrote a amazing poem.