The Image

If one were wont to look through the mirror,
one might find one such as I...

Deep and dark...
A silvery light...
all in the murkiness seen
yet, a face stares back fleetingly

caught
then
gone

A mystery of profound illusion - the figures
of the mirror (such as I) - 'with no matter'

sharing a place in space, "Oh, this face!"
it has no real glimmer...

"Life is for those who live it..."
"What then of those stuck under glass?"

Loss and redemption...
come with a crash and smash as we shatter the glass

to be an Image...
is to move at the behest of The Looker,
seek thee the silvery light...