Mirror hanging on the wall Hanging proudly wide and tall. Reflect the souls. Of those who call. The world of vane. The world of pain. The gate of conflict. Ceaseless strain. The mirror warps. The mirror rends. The truth revealed. When perfection ends. You cannot alter. For it won’t falter. The final verdict. The Devils’ altar Thrash it to pieces. So truth’s anguish ceases. The end of the judging. So inner peace increases. Be gone that awful panel. That wretched hateful channel. That ravaged myriad souls. Bestowed to history’s annals. No mirror can ever tell. The thing you know so well. That beauty lies within. And all vanity is hell.
