Sonnet
mirror, do tell me what I most desire
mirror, tell me something I need to know
what do I need to quench this raging fire
that my fantasy has only made grow,
with burning passion to rid of the truth
that is reality, with sweet and open
arms the doves call out to me and my youth,
they snatch up in their beaks, while the raven
does not call, but rather watches above,
a looming reminder of what darkness is
that it can be comfort, a masked love
that circles and even encompasses
with the love of a parent, reminding
that fantasy kills goals worth finding