Once upon a mournful midnight, very glum and gloomy,
A cry could be heard, reaching the highest mountain peak.
The silence was disturbed, once again, by a heartbreaking shriek,
The craving call died as it came, sudden and unsmoothly.
It came from within a monstrous mansion, nasty looking in the night.
Suffering from intense isolation, surrounded by a great nothingness,
No pleasure or joy on this location, only a ghastly chillness.
Among the infinite number of chambers, one was filled with candlelight.
Within that cruel chamber, no-one would go if they are wise.
There stood but one thing; a shocking story-high mirror.
In front a precious girl stood looking, going nearer and nearer.
She had beautiful raven hair and fascinating grass-green eyes.
From the mighty mirror a pair of eyes looked down at her.
Those eyes hated her, disgusted her, made her ache inside,
To herself she shared a murmur, something about wanting to hide.
They sucked up all her pride, nasty little things they were.
"But what have I done?" – said her whisper.
All her inner greatness and glory were long gone,
She wants to kill it, tame the begrudging beast that lies beneath,
For becoming this misfit, accusing herself from underneath.
Whimpering, weeping, still the loathing was all but withdrawn.
"But what have I done?" – she carried on.
Nowhere to go, nowhere to stay, the guilt was there to follow,
Cutting up her every vein, where normally love would flow.
A nauseating never-ending pain, she was desperate to make it go.
If only she could free herself, make her soul hollow.
"But what have I done?" – was said after a shaky swallow.
The damsel, merely inches close, shuddering and shivering,
She burst into tears, broke down, and endlessly she wailed.
Still she could see those scoffing sneers, she knew she had failed.
Yet still, the acknowledgement of failure didn't stop her quivering.
"What have I done?" – her voice was delivering.
Fallen to her knees, the mournful mirror towering over her,
She smashed it to the ground, pulverizing it with her bare hands.
By insanity she slowly drowned, screeches spreading across the meadowlands,
Even after the loss of her seeing glass, she could still hear its whisper.
"What have I done?" – was heard as a lisper.
It was still present, that agony, that woe without end,
But she couldn't look for it, for the candle had gone out.
There was no light, not one bit, she couldn't be without,
For now she sunk in greater folly, deeper and further she descended.
"What have I done?" – to the darkness she send.
Crying and crawling on the hard cold floor, she picked a shard of glass,
For if she wanted everything to stop, to go blank, it was she who had to go.
Her blood, now spreading drop for drop, sure but slow,
It left her body, but her sadness and suffering did not pass.
"What have I done?" – her final words at last.
At dawn the mansion still stood, meadows as far the eyes could see,
But where previously stood a black rose, now a lovely lily grew.
The place is pure as it always snows, ever since free of rue.
The color of the girl's hair withered, her eyes covered for eternity.
As well as her sorrow, not to forget, for now she is free.