[Poem - With Recitation] - Dream of the Mirror Land

I stand before a mirror,
Of floor to ceiling height,
So beautiful in its' decor,
So fine a manufactured sight!

Inside this boundary of glass,
This portal to reflected space,
I see a world outlined in brass,
Within an ornate interface.

So bright, so clear that space,
So wonderful the sights,
Unlike my poor and homely place,
So roughly hewn, so lacking lights.

I ponder what is shown to me,
I meditate on all the lines,
The crystal clear fidelity,
That amplifies what it defines.

Then...to my wonder and surprise,
I see my twin behind the pane,
Regarding me with my own eyes,
My duplicate in that domain!

How can he seem so real to me,
This phantom standing in my sight,
Appearing there intangibly,
Yet somehow more than light?

My brother stands within that land,
And his stature's noble grace,
Speaks of wisdom, something grand,
Far above my meager place!

Could he unveil the mystery,
Could he tell me so much more,
Of what I am, what I could be,
Than I've ever known before?

I step to him, he steps to me,
I push without, he pulls within,
And in my heart I wish to be,
Behind the glass and with my twin!

Then...suddenly I'm over there,
I'm in that wondrous mirror land,
Behind the looking glass so fair,
Thanks to my mirror-brother's hand!

But when I look around in glee,
Searching for my brother's face,
I'm shocked, for now I do not see,
The one who drew me to that place!

Instead I find I stand alone,
And I feel the magic dissipate,
This realm now feels as cold as bone,
And I begin to fear my fate!

Then, shocked, I see my brother there,
On the mirror's other side,
Pretense aside, no need to care,
The switch complete, no need to hide!

He's stolen my identity, so easily,
And trapped me here in mirror-land,
This hollow place, this mockery,
in which I stand, and he, my twin,
my enemy, smiles and turns his back to me!

I leap upon the mirror frame and pound
upon the prison door, and ask, "Why me!"
And cry, "No more!" but on he goes,
until I'm truly left alone, within this
prison made of glass, and pray to God this
is a dream, a nightmare that will pass...

PS: Thanks for reading and perhaps listening.