Elegy for the Empty Mirror
In gilded halls where self adores,
A nasty narcissist feeds on praise,
Their voice, a serpent’s coiling roar,
Their smile—a blade in hallowed haze.
They paint their soul in borrowed light,
A canvas void of xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Each mirror reflects their hollow night,
Yet they curse the glass for being blind.
With honeyed words, they spin their traps,
A dance of lies in polished shoes,
They drink from life like greedy gapes,
Then scorn the well for drying up.
No empathy inhabits their gaze,
Only storms behind a tranquil sea.
They’ll ghost you when the winds change days,
And call it freedom—you’re just debris.
But time, that thief, will peel their sheen,
Reveal the rot beneath the gold.
The crowd that chanted yours to be
Will vanish when their throne grows cold.
For narcissus blooms, then crumbles fast—
A fleeting, bitter, thorned-up spring.
The nastier sort? They leave a waste:
A heart unlearned, a soul un-sung.
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Author:
Friendship (
Offline) - Published: January 29th, 2026 07:26
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments2
Awesome concept and rendering 🕊️🙏🏻
Thank you, Arqios. I appreciate your review and kind words of support.
Friendship, this is scathing in a quiet, controlled way. It doesn’t rage…it exposes. The restraint gives it authority, and the moral clarity lands hard without ever posturing. Well done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you for taking the time to read my poem. Tristan, I appreciate your thoughtful understanding of my work. Your insight showcases your discerning judgment. I hope you have a wonderful day. It's chilly here at 32 degrees with a forecast of lows in the 20's this weekend. Take care and stay warm, your friend in Florida.🙏🌹
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