#WritcoPoemPrompt53
A silver mirror kept in my room,
showcasing everything in an impartial way,
It lits everything with it's silver gloom,
when it gets hit by the golden sunray...

It felt as though it was just yesterday
awoke the little old me in a nightmare so dreary
a crown on the head, a frown on the face for display
The silver uttered, my queen, be not weary.

Will collapsed, fear reigned,
After all, in twenty-first century, mute was the mirror.
Was I right to fix the puzzle that explained
Evil Queen, I was she and the two could be no nearer.

Locked in my room, hours ticked off, as did days
The mirror...