In a room of broken mirrors and walls, I was the cynosure, Still cloaked in reticence, Where no one dared to be found. It was... lugubrious. I stared at it Those dark obsidian eyes, As if they’d speak to me, At any moment. The cacophony of my mind Clashed with the silence of my heart. Eunoia was nowhere to be found. I smiled with aporia, Only to laugh at myself.. For making any sense at all. It didn’t feel like me… Or maybe, That’s just what I needed to believe. “Umm... you okay?” I asked.. A whispered soliloquy That echoed like a forgotten rhyme. Then I sat in silence, Meeting with my umbra.. And it unnerved me. Dark, like my thoughts. Unfinished, like my urges. The more I fought for the dark to disappear, The more it brought me face to face With my own fear. So now, I wait… For something seraphic To rise.. In the mirror of the unknown.