The Girl in The Mirror

 Sleeping through the night, 

 Is a forgotten pleasure, 

 Sleeping through the night, 

 A sensation unknown. 

 For the nightmare will come, 

 I can no longer stop it,

 For the girl will come, 

 So lost and alone. 

 And I hear it again, 

 The soft sobbing at midnight, 

 To the mirror again, 

 Where she is cold and alone. 

 She draws her hands from her eyes, 

 And reaches out for me, 

 In another place, 

 She is lost far from home. 

 And then she cries out,

 Screaming in terror, 

 And then she cries out, 

 It is too loud to hear. 

 I must cover my ears, 

 As I cannot bear the pain, 

 And then the mirror cracks, 

 As I collapse in fear. 

 I must break this cycle, 

 And I must solve the mystery, 

 Awaiting till midnight,

 For her face to return. 

 When I blinked did I see her,

 Or is this just madness? 

 As I blink she is staring, 

 And awaits my return. 

 And so I turn to the light switch, 

 Flipping it faster, 

  In the strobing light tension,

She is there holding fast.

Then this ghost of an image,

Thrusts her hand forward,

In a scream of pure terror,

She breaks through the glass.

 I awake from the darkness, 

 Lying sprawled on the tile, 

 Looking up towards the mirror, 

 Which is broken no more. 

 Yet where her hand was, 

 There is blood on the mirror, 

 And from not long ago, 

 As it runs towards the floor. 

 I must find a way, 

 To break through this madness, 

 Or to find a way to her, 

 If she is really there. 

 I must shatter the mirror, 

 At midnight tonight, 

 If there is even a chance, 

 Then to take it I dare.

 I have her fluttering image, 

 As I do flicker the light, 

 And a way to break through, 

 I now hold in  my hand.

 This night with a broomstick, 

 I shattered this glass of fears, 

 Then I knew nothing more, 

 Things did not go as planned. 

 In the morning I awoke, 

 With no mirror confirming, 

 That something did happen, 

 And my story is true. 

  There was laid on my chest, 

 A single rose with a note, 

 It did not say who she was, 

 The note just said Thank You.

 In this world of dimensions, 

 Where time and space meet,

 I can imagine there are moments, 

 When the fabric is weak. 

 Who knows of her story, 

 Or what must be true, 

 Perhaps at such a moment, 

 She must have fell through. 

 Who could but imagine, 

 All that God has in mind, 

 Yet he does not forget anyone, 

 And so she I did find. 

 God does not forget me, 

 God does not forget you, 

 Always remember this truth, 

 No matter what you go through. 

Sent from my iPho