"mirrors"

​by C. Ikpoh

In the Mirror of Love there is a face. The face is not that of your own. The reflection you see is the projection of your spirit's greatest desire. It is flawless in its accuracy and portrayal. Painted in transparent hues are all the makings of your divine purpose's identity. The liquid that is the vision's medium ripples together, forming the perfect combination of lines and angles, colors and shades, outlines and details, offering an image only the most worthy of us are permitted to gaze upon. Though it lay flat against your fingertips at the end of your reach, fret not. There is no refusal, yet, only a need for manifestation. Stare into the Mirror of Love. Believe in what your eyes show you. Allow your soul to transcribe it's conclusion - the sacred meaning of your true existence has been revealed, and it shall be etched in your heart forever. May this reflection be eternal.

In the Mirror of Lust, there is a face. The face is not that of your own. The reflection you see is that of your flesh's greatest desire. It is flawless in its accuracy and portrayal. Painted in transparent hues are all the makings of your animalistic identity. Your carnal instinct beams with vigor under the light which halos the display. It is not fleeting, as your reflection will not leave your gaze, and with each second that passes, it stains your memory with permanent ink. Clamoring are all the things that make you human. Fire ignites deep within, only extinguishable by the embrace of this reflection. Knowing such, there is no refusal, yet, only a need for manifestation. Stare into the Mirror of Lust. Believe in what your eyes show you. Allow your soul to transcribe it's conclusion - the primal meaning of your existence has been revealed, and it shall be etched in your heart forever. May this reflection be eternal.

In the Mirror of Hate, there is a face. The face is not that of your own. The reflection you see is that of your inner demon's greatest desire. It is flawless in its accuracy and portrayal. Painted in transparent hues are all the makings of your secular identity. The mystical life force has penetrated your armor. No longer is your mind or spirit safe. Glowing amidst the reciprocating surface are all the shades of inequity one can fathom. Your enemy is immortal, safe within the subconscious of your mind. The projection before you gains life through the fog from every exhalation onto the glass. Thus, there is no refusal, yet, only a need for manifestation. The reflection accepts your offering of life. Stare into the Mirror of Hate. Believe in what your eyes show you. Allow your soul to transcribe it's conclusion - the darker meaning of your existence has been revealed, and it shall be etched in your heart forever. May this reflection be eternal.

In the Mirror of Sorrow, there is a face. The face is not that of your own. The reflection you see is that of your tears' greatest desire. It is flawless in its accuracy and portrayal. Painted in transparent hues are all the makings of your woeful identity. The saddened mind is an alive one, for it simultaneously realizes that which it wants to be, and that which it does not want to be. Water glistens within the storyboard before you as it cascades down the contours of your face, depositing a trail of residue to remember them by. Unapologetically, the reflection mimics every quiver of your lips, every squint of your eyes and every contortion of your face. It revels in its thespianism, and as you weep, it livens. No sympathy will ever be given. Empathy is what this reflection strives for, as it wants to become you. As such, there is no refusal, yet, only a need for manifestation. Stare into the Mirror of Sorrow. Believe in what your eyes show you. Allow your soul to transcribe it's conclusion - the lugubrious meaning of your existence has been revealed, and it shall be etched in your broken heart forever. May this reflection be eternal.