The Mirror two

I look in the mirror,
into it's the empty world,
of my soul's reflection,
the looking back expression,
given by the individual,
that convinces my heart,
to listen to the lies,
that it poisons me with,
telling me what I wish not to hear,
making me feel sorrow is the only way,
having me convinced love does not exist,
and that am friendless,
left empty in sorrow's abyss,
I rise my hands to break the glass,
and the mirror speaks the words,
that's seven years bad luck,
as it laughs so wicked,
until the glass gets shattered,
from my very delight,
because now am free,
from my personal conviction,
and my thoughts are at the beauty,
of peace's loving kiss.