I am a thought, a thought of another's mind,
A whisper carried, a form defined.
Another thinks of me, I am their imagined art,
Another thinks of me, a phantom in the heart.
My tears, they fall upon a different glass,
Reflecting back a visage that will pass.
A mirror held by hands I cannot know,
I am a thought, of someone’s afterglow.
I dwell within a hand that reaches out,
A whispered prayer, beyond all doubt.
I am another's fate, a whispered plea,
Another seeks me, yearning to be.
My tears, they fall upon a different glass,
Reflecting back a visage that will pass.
A mirror held by hands I cannot know,
I am a thought, of someone’s afterglow.
If they return, then ask them, if they turn,
Don’t look too closely, as lessons they must learn.
If they return, if ever they come back,
Don’t gaze too long, along the fading track.
The paths that failed, a different road they trod.
You knew not of the foes that did you harm,
The hidden dangers, sheltering the storm.
You knew not of the foes, concealed from view,
While I, I knew not of the friends I knew.
Your story told, a different tale unfolds,
My tears, they fall, as another story molds.
A mirror held by hands I cannot know,
I am a thought, of someone’s afterglow.
Another thinks of me, their vision bright,
My tears, they fall, within their fading light.
A mirror held by hands I cannot know,
I am a thought, a thought I will bestow.
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