In The Mirror

Who is this, with these callous eyes with neither affection nor bliss?
Are these the same eyes that once wrinkled with excitement?
Now darkened and dull and cold.
Who is this that returns my glare in kind?
Is it me? No, it's an intruder, more alien than what I used to observe.
Where is the individual who used to flourish in the warmth of others?
They no longer survive.
Deceased and leaving behind an empty capsule.
The emptiness weighing heavy on me
When will I recover?
When I find out where sanity has departed to?
When I trace their path and beseech them to return?
But how long will I endure this?
I ache for its recovery.
Ache for the affection and bliss to rebound.
Am I doomed to this alienation?
Or can I salvage what is left of me?