What have I come to be? A figment of my own imagination, a cruel imitation of life, a replica of something real. I am colorless and imperfect. As I smile to myself I walk from the frame. For I only exist as a reflection, only as a mirror does.
What have I come to be? A figment of my own imagination, a cruel imitation of life, a replica of something real. I am colorless and imperfect. As I smile to myself I walk from the frame. For I only exist as a reflection, only as a mirror does.