Body restless
As only mind can make it
He paces the room bathed in silvered light.
Eyes lock with his…
Reflection?
Staring deep into the shadowed pool of the Soul,
And he wants to throw himself into the
Darkness he sees there,
As he wishes to become one with the night.
He can hear whispering in the corners of the room;
He knows the only way this
Flirtation with himself can end- in
The fear he lets thrill through him
Like the touch of a lover, he knows-
In the anger he strokes and cherishes,
Feeds and succors as it writhes in his veins.
Yes... He knows.
His eyes challenge his Shadow’s in the mirror,
Forcibly reading the secrets that dance there
And the dance calls to his own blood
As the eyes in the mirror laugh. Slowly
They woo each other for their mutual use,
Making promises to be broken when the back is turned.
Soul and Shadow warring as eyes meet in the mirror
Grappling and clawing, gripping tightly as they struggle
For control of the new creature being born here
In this room. The Shadow steps out of the mirror
Or he falls inward, and they become one,
Forged together in a living blade of dark steel,
Strong and cold, and flawed in unguessable ways.

(Too much time spent reading ficcies at the Broken Circle brought this on... my thoughts on what it's like to Fall.)