The image, mine, in the mirror,
was slowly fading; about to disappear.
"An omen?" Someone asked me.
"Your spirit" I said, "We agree,
is going; slowly now, from thee.
The image, mine, in the mirror,
was slowly fading; about to disappear.
"An omen?" Someone asked me.
"Your spirit" I said, "We agree,
is going; slowly now, from thee.