Before the glass, he stands alone,
A man once vibrant, now overthrown.
The mirror reflects not flesh or bone,
But shadows cast where light has flown.

His eyes once bright, now lost in gray,
The weight of life has worn away.
The man he was seems far and thin,
A shadow where he should have been.

No warmth, no spark, just dark remains,
A hollow form that bears his name.
He reaches out, but slips instead,
A shadow lives where he once led.