THE MIRROR IS NOT A BUTTERFLY

It was night.
Raindrops were glistening on my skin, on my lips and in my eyes.
I was looking in the mirror. I realized that my mien was reflecting my life up to the moment at which I was beholding my physical appearance in the mirror.
Folklore says that the mirror never lies.
But is my reflection in the mirror not just a mere illusion? Like the beautifying cursory and illusional glistening of raindrops on my skin?

Beauty is a mere illusion then? Perhaps the notion of beauty is evinced by the soul when the reflection is redolent of a scent. The scent of a rose. But not the scent of one rose but the fragrance of many roses. The scent of roses makes the roses truly beautiful. To behold the rose is merry to the eyes but to truly connect to her beauty the roses mete out their scents which reach our souls. True beauty is assessed with the souls which embrace subtle beauty. The reign of the eyes' lust is the outer world. But true beauty touches the soul which is stirred by the songs of the hearts of the roses called fragrance.
Beauty is not illusional but what makes beautiful to the eyes' lust is illusional. The mirror reflects only. The mirror never instigates the soul by playing the song of the heart. True beauty is subtle. And subtlety the mirror never shows. True beauty attracts first with scent and then with looks. True beauty is the gift of the heart which the butterfly embraces. 
Then the butterfly gets illuminated with the rose's subtle and mysterious gifts. True beauty is the mysterious light within which illuminates and merges with her true admirer. 

I am still looking in the mirror. The raindrops on my skin have dried. I look different now. But the mirror does not care about this change in my looks. I can change my looks over and over again.
But this doing will only cast the illusional spell of beauty on my and all human eyes. Because the mirror does not reflect my heart's song. The mirror is not a butterfly. And the rose will die but not her gifts for the world.