Magic Mirror

Mirrors seem to be on my mind lately.

It's no use; the mirror's enigmatic
unmoved alike by angry king's demand
and tearful queenly amateur dramatics.
Opaque and silent, resting on its stand
it shows no army menacing the land
no rival for the power of the throne
no suitor for the princess' fair hand.
Unhelpful mirror, tongueless as a stone.
The king's afraid; he's never really known
uncertainty, from very early youth.
A scholar climbs the winding stair alone
and whispers to the mirror: "Show me Truth."
A blinding flash of light dispells the gloom
and shadows fill again the empty room.