Mirorr
The poison apple
With a small bite in its crisp flesh,
Beckons and entices
With a spotless crimson lust
A passion that,
As red; as pure as it may be,
Is smeared with dirty lies
And grotesque longing.
Illusions sleep at the feet
Of the flimsy dress’ hem; when lifted –
Reveals the moist, sweet and subtle flesh
Of pink and porcelain skin
With seven loves,
And the tender kiss of a Prince,
At the end, everything will be made known
Within the delicate countenance of white
Mirror, oh, Mirror
Reflect my grotesque mind...
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Who’s the fairest of them all?
A soft, unsatisfied, cherry-tinted mouth
And lips dragged down by a pout
Burns affection into an unfortunate victim,
Of an enslaving, selfish desire
Iron boots in polished leather
Continue to dance away;
Soon everything else will be
Tainted and burnt to black
Mirror, dear mirror
Reflect my withering heart
Mirror, Oh, mirror
Why won’t you just shatter away?
Dire vanity and insatiable craving
Is suffered inside this defiled soul
In your silvery glow,
I bask within a deadly sin
Mirror, oh, mirror
Reflect my twisted mind...
Mirror, mirror on the wall...
Who is the fairest of them all?
