Mystic Pool Poem by Leland D'Elormie

While stumbling through the wooded wild,
Where the carrion waste of the world is piled,
I shortly found a hidden cave,
Which shelter from the wasteland gave,
Inside, a placid emerald pool,
Sat undisturbed and clear and cool,
And from its depths a stranger peered,
Whose face, too much like mine, I feared,
Stared through my skull, straight to its back,
With one eye white, the other black.

The odd feature I recognized,
As much the same as my own eyes,
As proud, as happy and as accursed,
Yes, just the same except reversed,
This tired form without a name,
Cried out just as I did the same,
And he with left hand, and I with right,
Produced two gifts, one black, one white.

As he reached up, the waters swirled,
I stooped and reached into his world,
We opened our gifts and found two keys,
Mine of bleached marble and ivory,
His of black onyx and darkest teak,
We bowed in thanks but didn't speak.

Since that quiet night many doors I've found,
Of cleanest marble all around,
And so unlocked them with my key,
And carried on my fantasy,
Whether black doors and locks he's met,
I cannot say, but can't forget,
The good it's done on my own end,
That great gift of my mirror friend.