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THE QUEENS MIRROR

 


Running Thru the Woods,

Touches of the Wind Caress my Hair.

I Saw a Gleam look up at me,

I Stopped, and Returned it's Stare.

I Looked a Little Closer,

And saw Reflections of my Own Face.

Then I Picked it up,

He Smiled and lured me into His own Place.

Reflection is Reality.

 

I am Imagination.

 

It has to be a Falsity,

 

Or Exhausting Relaxation.

 

Thru Real Eyes,

 

I See This Dream Get Clearer.

 

 

I Realize,

 

I'm Looking Thru the Queens Mirror.

 

 

 

 

I See Waves,

 

It Seems They're Slaves.

 

Beneath the Sun at Reach.

 

 

 

 

They Look Like Scales,

 

And Dragon Tails,

 

Crash Out on the Beach.

 

 

 

 

This Serpents Haze,

 

Circles His Prey,

 

The Loneliest of Fools.

 

 

 

 

And the Trees They Dare,

 

To Cast Their Stare,

 

Of Shadows on the Duel.

 

 

 

 

Just When Things get Grim,

 

I'm Watching Him,

 

Laughing at His Fate.

 

 

 

 

Suddenly I See,

 

This Fool is me.

 

And There is no Time to Debate.

 

 

 

Reflection is Reality.

 

I am Imagination.

 

It has to be a Falsity,

 

Or Exhausting Relaxation.

 

 

 

 

So With Thoughts of Death,

 

I Catch my Breath,

 

And Reach Down for my Knife.

 

 

 

 

But the Stories That He May Tell,

 

May Very Well,

 

Be Worth His Life.

 

 

 

 

But I Grabbed My Knife,

 

I lounged to Take His Life,

 

I tried to Cut Him to the Bone.

 

 

 

 

But He Breathed His Flame,

 

Until Nothing Remained,

 

And I Stood There Alone.

1998, Hunt
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