it was horrible

the beast of four,
climbing around
with hair and shiny ornaments
all nearby

the mirror only presented
the emptiness inside;
the fullness -
the demon,
clinging on my back

perched upon my neck,
and crowded near my cheek and face,
whisper, o whisper
the true thing that you are

with beauty, humbleness,
deceived by the face -
what once was complete and real
has now become a demon