I found myself, in my sorrow
Walking in a forest
Grey snow on every branch
Dusty and dry
The path behind me is empty
Vanishing into a lack of color
Neither black or white
The hue of dead time
The ground is twisted with roots
Crystal puddles slick
Surrounding me
They mirror my face
Smoother and younger
And twisted in fear
Their voices scream
Muffled as if drowning
Pounding against the ice as their strength leaves them
I bring my shoe down
Fracturing the surface
Trying to free myself
The screaming stops amidst the cracking
As the crystal pool shatters
My youthful face, distorted and silent
The icy mirror clouds pink
Onto crimson
As my face drifts into the sanguine depths
The other mirrors turn red
Like picked scabs
The grey forest escapes its ashen sleep
As the smell of copper chokes me
The dry and crisp soil is now soaked
As the fluid forms a sea
Pulling me under
I look up and see an older self
Safe behind a sheet of glass
Inhabiting a gray forest
In our sorrow

-Galwyn

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