light
becomes
dark
through the looking glass;
and you can see
smoke clouding your v.i.s.i.o.n.
there is no
hope.
there is
pain, heartbreak, pain;
and you have never glimpsed
(a single smile,)
on the other side.
the person you have become
is f-r-a-c-t-u-r-e-d, and you see
the mirror
stands tall,
your figure
{small.}
here, your world is not
silver-hued.
your world is
death, despair and danger,
they are gone:
and
[carved] from shards of glass,
alone,
you are not
strong enough.
you are
broken.
never
whole.
(now read it from bottom to top)
maenons