The Burning of Masks

There it was, again this game
Like Narcissus
I might have fallen
For my own
Reflection, walking, talking,
Staring back at me, with a different name.
Another mirror full of lies
As an angel disguised
Someone hauntingly familiar.
Break the glass to know for sure
Someone dark, a stranger
Still obscured
But I am girt with a fiery sword
The burning of masks
Has become a chore
My heart lit by the flame
The love without name
That song of the universe
That puts mortal men to shame.

If, without glamour, you disappear
You were never there
You were never here.