In shadows deep, where mirrors stare,
A land exists beyond the nightmare.
No paths to tread, no skies to see,
Just endless fog and misery.

The air is still, the silence vast,
Each moment shrinks the will to last.
No time, no change, no light, no sound,
Just sinking mud and hollow ground.

Reflections dance on mirrored glass,
Each showing truths no heart could pass.
A face once known, now strange and vile,
A mask distorted all the while.

The further in, the more you lose,
Your will, your name, your right to choose.
A hollow shell, a wretched stain,
A shackled soul consumed by pain.

Yet hidden there, a secret lies,
A truth that whispers, never dies.
Though lost in gray, though drowned in fear,
What's gone may still be waiting near.

It feeds on hope that slips away,
And whispers lies where dreams decay.
“You've lost, You've failed,” it cries out, “there's nothing more,”
Yet hides the key behind its door.

For mirrors break, and fog may clear,
And what is false can disappear.
Though unseen hands will weave and bind,
Not all who wander lose their mind.

Its mirrors crack, the whispers fade,
The darkest depths are self-made.
For light remains where shadows tread,
And strength revives where fear has bled.

To despair is human, this we know,
Yet rise we must, through winds that blow.
For every fall, a step to climb,
And hope reborn with endless time.