Not a child but young the same
infinitely old and wise beyond knowing
alas, for he doesn't have it tame
in him i see potential,
that very few mortals possess
but he doesn't see all that i can see
he is the ghost,
he is the silence,
he is the echo of time, forsaken
forsakened the power he holds
when he looks in the mirror -
a ghost will see nothing
but a mirror shows only one side
he has the power within him
to move like the wind
across not only earth, but time
and the mirror he looks at is merely a shard
of the reality,
of what can be,
but the ghost stands before it - trying,
and failing,
only because he tries too hard
if the ghost could be silent,
and rattle no chains,
his reflection could do him no harm.
And a ghost - without thinking - can do anything
if he doesn't try too hard.
Like a rainbow, approach it, it runs swiftly away
you can't catch it
if you're using your hand
but if you watch it, and know it, and learn all its ways
you can catch it
within your mind.
Only a coward should judge himself,
not a ghost,
nor anyone sane.
Lay down your mirror - upon its face,
never look upon it again,
and soon you'll forget the battle between yourself
and your reflection.
