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The Old Mirror
by Katan

I stand before the mirror of old,
'tis oval in shape, and plated in gold.
I peek into the portal gate,
The Sun is setting, 'tis getting late.

I hear a snap of twig behind where I stand,
Turning, I see a Maha crouching in the sand.
My drawn sword glimmers in the light of the setting Sun.
From afar it looks this battle will not be won.

The Maha pounces with speed unmatched,
Claw meets blade with an awesome clash.
As dust clears, I find I'm still alive.
I sheath my sword, my hope revived.

I turn once more to face the golden gate,
Unsure of what now will be my fate.
Stepping through the swirling glass...
Will this action be my last?