I became an image of me.
Too late, I wondered
Where my true self should be.
All this time squandered
In the mirror image of me.

I cried out once, inside my love,
The replica baffled my sounds;
So, hidden in hollows
I caused all the sorrows,
Treading his unhallowed ground.

Look at the colours they said
Look at these bones so profound.
They could not have known
If I am kind, to suppose,
Of how I remained below ground.