Suire (Bardic)
By: Kiusha Posted on: January 31, 2008
She was an ordinary child,
was laughing, smiling, running wild,
until one day she came upon
a mirror surfaced lake.
She knelt to drink a silken sip;
her throat was dry - to take a dip;
't was warm outside, but then she caught
a glimpse of her own face.
She'd never seen herself before,
not seen her stunning looks galore,
her chestnut hair or creamy skin,
her sparkling pale green eyes.
She soon was captured by her gaze,
enchanted, whispered words of praise,
and softly smiled upon the face
that sung into her soul.
She did not leave the Vashnars' lake
until Lord Twilight was awake
and her reflection faded
in the darkness of the night.
Her illness started on that day,
and it has never gone away,
for ever since this Siren's been
fixated on herself.
Her parents saw she was in love;
her mind flew in the clouds above.
So when she asked a mirror they
provided one for her:
't was backed with silver filigree,
and crystal clear, so she could see
each detail of her flawless skin,
the beauty deep within.
She'd lock herself into her room,
to brush her hair, to gape, to swoon.
She'd get a little worse each time
until she stayed inside.
She didn't eat, she didn't sleep.
Her illness had become so deep
that she began to pine away
within her loving gaze.
Her parents took her far from home
and wrote her name into a tome,
admitting her into the ward
for those with ailing minds.
Her mother cried, her father prayed,
but she'd have died if she had stayed,
and so Creville Asylum closed
their gates around the girl.
She did not miss her parents or
the world that lay beyond the door:
she'd brought her mirror. It was all
that she would ever crave.
The nurses made her eat her food,
she slept on drugs. 'T improved her mood.
She was quite happy for a while
inside her private world.
All Sapience' best therapist
reviewed her mind, went through the mist,
but he found nothing that would bring
her back to who she was.
She was content in her disease,
and all the doctor's expertise
was wasted on her since she had
no wish of being cured.
Mirror in hand, she spent her days
within a smitten, blissful haze.
For years she smiled upon her face
until one fated hour.
A fragile balance finally snapped.
The faculty was bound and strapped
by those much crazier than her,
a cruel, mindless crowd.
A frenzy stirred by freedom's call
soon turned into a bloody brawl,
and even she was soon beset
by men with thirst for blood.
She fought with tooth and nail to win,
but still they marred and burned her skin,
cut off her fingers, and, worse still,
they broke her mirror's glass.
She nearly died, but she was strong,
and listened to her inner song:
it told her she would be all right.
She held on to dear life.
When she could finally move again,
she turned with fear to see her twin.
The shattered glass could not conceal
the damage to her skin.
Her beauty was forever gone,
nothing remained to fawn upon,
But she kept watching the distorted
image of herself.
Despite the mirror's sad demise
she found her sparkling pale green eyes
and recognised the one she loved
was still the same inside.
Forever trapped within those walls
she is the least alone of all,
because she'll always have herself
to keep her company.