There are so many times that I have looked into the mirror and seen a small shade of understanding behind the other face looking back at me. A glimmer mind you that seems to be yet not be there when I study it. I have walked so far- for oh so very long -without that substance in the face I see -that no longer do I stop to stare into the mirror. The disappointment I feel at the face not there hurts me more than the faces of substance around me. Like a small child that can't quite understand - I question that face with a littany of why? I avoid that face and question not deeply the reasons why  I am. I walk through my life as a soldier with no quest of their own. Ambling along in the stream like a leaf - I go through the motion. Hostile when jostled against the rocks. I twirl and spin until I get past. Then dead again I follow along no place I can rest. I wonder how long I can float this way. Spent and lifeless- drifting each day. How long before the husk that I am finally sinks into the dark deep unknown? "Will there be peace?" I question the face. "Will there be silence?" I ask it anew. "Will there be others like me?" I ask of the mirror as the glimmer dims to nothing. Drifting away, I pause to look back, no answers forthcoming the mirror is black.