• Who is this phantom
    Which lurks in my mirror?
    Such a ghostly thing~
    Where has her youth been spent on?
    I pity this frail lass
    Whose eyes glisten with not joy
    But sorrow
    Whose lips tremble with not love
    But fear
    Whose nostrils breathe not fresh air
    But lies, misunderstandings,
    Whose chains bind her heart
    And padlock her inhibitions

    Yes, this ghost has spent
    A tear over a hailstorm
    A sigh over a scream
    A touch over an abuse
    ~A heartbeat over a death.

    This girl in my mirror...
    Cannot be me?