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"Make muse of your mirror," the Amyrnum crooned,
Beauty so potent even a heartless would swoon.
"Make them lavish worship and love and praise."
"Let yourself bask in your own lovely rays."
"Drown your mockery," The Byle did burble,
Fetid bubbles rising and making the air curdle.
"They are horrendous, disgusting, and vile!"
"But you are yet more- And so, defile."
"Devour your copy," Gorgharia choked out,
Fat body piled high with tremulous gout.
"Lick up their flesh and slurp out their bones!"
"Take all their mass and make it your own."
"Replace the other," the Nameless did buzz,
Voice modulated and masked with obscuring fuzz.
"They will take your place, and you will take theirs."
"We are all the same, so who really cares?"
"Study your replica," the Omnillian did state,
Past glass, and stone, and forged steel plate.
"Their habits can be a source of wisdom and light."
"Apply it to yourself, to betterness incite."
"Interrogate your mimic," the Psilysium did laugh,
The smoke in the room increasing by half.
"Just how many chances can you search your own mind?"
"Or are you too scared of what you might find?"
"Be kind to your kin," the Quelsh did warn,
Their eyes equal measures loving and stern.
"How you treat yourself is how you ought to treat others."
"Compassion is what makes us all brothers."
"Breed with your clone!" the Viviria proclaimed,
A smile full of teeth, a gown love-stained.
"It is life that keeps us from miserable extinction."
"It is our willingness that gives us beautiful distinction."
"Fuck your pet!" the Vorn did near shriek,
Over the din of their own doll reaching their peak.
"If you can catch them, they're yours to enjoy!"
"It's the right of the victor to claim a new toy."
"Kill your double," the Umbrasian intoned,
Gnarled fingers resting on thrones of stone.
"They are your rival- They'll steal your name!"
"They'll claim your belief, your gloam, your fame."
Ten names had crowed, and crooned, and called.
Ten names had given opinions all.
An eleventh did come, once question was asked,
An eleventh voice, with answers amassed.
"You are yourself," they said in a whisper,
"You are your own father, you are your own sister."
"You are your future, your present, your past."
"You are your words, and deeds, your first and last."
"You are your own pleasure, you are your own pain."
"You are your own god and you burn your own flame."
"There's no difference between many and few."
"You are Morphoria, and we are you."