Pensively, he glanced into the Mirror hanging on the wall.
The steady, pale blue-grey eyes held his gaze, and watched him, mockingly.
As if, to say, "Don't fool yourself...
there's nothing for you there at all;
She is still young, you are too old;
it's just a dream...
this, you must see.

And, even this... at most, is tenuous; you only know Her name.
This sweet, imagined vision of Her, you hold close... Just misty words;
You don't know what She looks like... where She lives... or, if, She feels the same
towards you;
there is little here, to cling to...
this is quite absurd.

For, you know, you may never meet...
even, if She might want you.
You can never whisper to Her, those soft, gentle words you write;
There will never be a "You" and "Her"...
you know these words ring true,
And, this can only ever be
just dreams and shadows in the night."

The saddened, pale blue-grey eyes studied him... yet, choosing not to hear
the truth,
soft whispering in the flame he held for Her,
so bright... so clear.