THE MIRROR
silver paper mercury, no eye escapes its deep
for years endures against the wall
down marbled corridor and hall
the labyrinth’s veins asleep
promises of what might be, its syrup ever sweet
forever men have known the call
their misted minds have felt the fall
the mirror’s murmurs beat
Anticipated living step!
within, the tangle palpitates
fleetly it will dine
Who wanders, aimless, to his death?
the glass accepts his proffered bait
dead do not repine
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