As the agonizing nights rolled in after the cold days.

She would sing to the mirror.
'Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who is the loneliest of them all?
Is it why they keep leaving me?
Weeping lone and cold with only the damp forlorn floor to pat me. '

Then one fine day the mirror finally said,
'Solitude is better than few untrue souls.
Look into the solitude diligently,
how it elegantly weaves your dear friends.
For one day shall come when your forsaken heart will bloom.
And isolation will just be a part of your distant memory. '

Her ire had vanquished her patience.
No longer the magic and the hollow lies charmed her.
Mighty numb fingers tossed the old  mirror across the floor.
Tiny mirror pieces adorned her dark room.
Soon palpitating steps of regret approached her broken companion.
And she looked over her dead friend wistfully.
But countless selves stared back at her.

Reminding how she fought

A L O N E

Reminding she was much more of worth than the warmth of few

H E A R T L E S S    S O U L S

She was never really alone.
In her heart.
She had countless comrades.
An army which always reminded her true worth.