In the quiet woods where shadows play,

A woman stands in disarray.

Her mirror reflects a demon’s face,

A trick of the light, a cruel embrace.

With eyes that haunt and lips that frown,

She thinks of herself as broken down.

But around her, the trees stand tall,

Whispering secrets, urging her to recall.

“Beneath this mask, you’re more than you see,

A heart full of wonder, wild, and free.”

Yet the mirror’s grip, like chains, holds tight,

And they wrestle with darkness in the fading light.

“Why can’t I be lovely?” she quietly pleads,

As nature around her quietly reads.

But each leaf that rustles, each breeze through the pines,

Echoes the truth of the beauty that shines.

So she breathes in the forest, lets the world know,

That demons can’t win when love starts to grow.

For the mirror may lie, but with hope in her chest,

She’ll find her true self, and learn to be best.