There once was a traveler, weary and worn,
His clothes were tattered, his spirit torn.
He wandered far with no clear path,
Seeking answers, running from wrath.

One day he came upon a mirror,
Its surface smooth, its edges clearer.
It stood alone on a dusty hill,
Silent and still, yet strangely still.

The traveler gazed, his eyes aglow,
"What do you hold? What do you know?"
The mirror replied, in a voice so pure,
"I show the truth, but it's never sure."

The traveler frowned, confused and lost,
"For I've seen the world, no matter the cost.
I've walked the paths, I've touched the skies,
But I don't know what I seek, or why."

The mirror's surface began to shift,
It showed the man, his soul's rift.
A face so tired, eyes full of pain,
A heart broken, bound by chains.

"I see you now," the traveler said,
"Is this the truth you've shown ahead?"
The mirror answered, soft and deep,
"The truth is what you choose to keep."

"Why do you show this fractured heart?
I've walked the world, torn apart.
I've sought the light, I've run from fear,
Yet I find nothing when I look here."

The mirror whispered, "You must see,
That the truth you seek lies within thee.
What you see is not just your face,
But the choices made in every space."

The traveler stepped closer, filled with doubt,
"Then why must I still wander about?
Why do I chase what's not yet clear,
When all I find is pain and fear?"

The mirror shined with gentle grace,
"It is the journey, not the place.
What you seek is who you've been,
And in yourself, the world begins."

The traveler's eyes began to tear,
For in the glass, his soul grew clear.
The struggles faced, the battles won,
Were part of him, they couldn't run.

"You've always had the truth in hand,"
The mirror said, "across the land.
The key was never to the door,
But to the heart you search for more."

And with that, the traveler found his peace,
No longer chasing, no longer ceased.
For he had learned that all along,
The truth was where he'd belonged.

The mirror faded, the hill grew bare,
But the traveler knew, it was always there—
The journey's end is not the goal,
But the quiet peace that fills the soul.