Man in the mirror

He who abides behind the mirror
depends upon his counterpart
for the stuff of his existence.
He must connive and scheme
to fascinate and captivate his prey.

He is the cunning predator.
He must feed upon the vanity
of the object of his desire,
to fuel his hope and dream
that he might gain release
from his figmentary prison.

He does not exist;
Yet he is always there;
like the carnival marionette
asleep in his battered trunk,
who only dances into life
when the master plies the strings;
and the roaring audience is
primed for the big show.

The lights go on
The music trumpets
Ta-ta-dahhh !
Ladies and gentlemen,
boys and girls,
children of all ages,
now for your wonderment;
the man who is not there !

He doesn't even lie in wait;
it's not patience that's his tack.
He is nothing.
He is no-one.
Yet each and every time,
he succeeds with his illusion;
a performance so convincing
you believe he's real as you.

It's nothing personal.
He seeks to capture your attention,
and dazzle you with his skills.
He has so many magic tricks.
He is the smoke behind the mirror.

His mission is a simple one,
to persuade you of one thing.
You'd be so much better off
if you should trade domains,
only for an hour or two;
with his solemn oath of honor
that when the moment did arrive
he would be sure and willing
to return from whence he came.

So take great care and caution
when you gaze into that mirror.
That fine fellow smiling back at you,
that you trust with all your heart,
wishes only this of you;
that you take him on his offer
so that he may win your soul.

Then it shall be you who's trapped
behind that looking glass.