(c) 2011 by Tom King
Like unto like, image unto image.
The places into which we gaze, dark or light
Leave marks upon our mortal souls.
Should we focus on the evil that men do,
Talk about it, think about it,
Brood the long and murky days and nights.
Surely we shall bid them slip inside our hearts.
Then, one day waking, putting on the day's face
We look into the mirror and find in it,
All that we despised; all that gave us pain
Is looking back at us, a wicked smile upon its lips.
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