Like The Glory Of The Pastures

My boyfriend had called, saying he wanted to meet up.

So I went to my dressing table and started to work on my face,

Adorning it I thought, I had to give it a new look, I said.

Soon I was done with my makeover and I stared hard and long,

In my vanity mirror.

Initially, I was satisfied with my handwork,

I am so good at this, I mused to myself

Little did I know I was hurting myself,

As a drama started to unfold.

My reflection had started to change form

Into something I had never seen before

Her head was twisted to the side,

Makeup smeared all over her mouth

Her eyes were sunken, they looked ruthless

I was fast getting breathless.

As she had started to scratch on the looking glass,

Working relentlessly till it

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began to crack,

My head was spinning and my screams were masked.

Soon there was a gash on her palm,

Blood had started to pool at my feet,

Drawing me in till I was gasping for breath,

It was a fight for my life,

But one that didn't last as my hands soon fell at my sides.

It was all a bad dream

But the message was bold, clear

I had chased too long after mundane cares

Materials want that were on the whole worldly

I was choked up in them,

There wasn't any help

And now I shed tears as I recline on an old chair

An old woman with grey hairs

Now I don't even look in the mirror anymore

For my beauty had vanished like thin air,

Like smoke, it could not be caught

Like the glory of the pastures.