Kalmiqaz Proliterate I | + Follow Poet |
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Shattered Mirror

It starts out small, just barely there...

Though not unnoticed, most, just don’t care.

A miniscule prick, a tiny tear,

Little lacerations, all to often, go uncared.

In each and every case I’ve seen,

In life, in death - from dream to dream,

On all the world’s torn blue jeans…

There burns the memory of that first bust seam.

So with this said I lend my care, and urge that unto me you bare,

Your every sadness, your every tear,

Repent them all, let fall each tear,

And as so released upon my ear...

Let wounds be closed, now someone knows,

Then every pain so long enclosed,

Now let release, those doors you open, now I close,

Or else what next shall be what you've chose.

None can suppress those pains, do not try, it is in vain,

For if this you do, soon find will you, all you've retained,

Naught but  true pain.

And where now you stand, despite whatever greatness planned,

Now small and maimed, just an empty, lonely pane

No longer grand, without life's stain.

For what's kept inside, soon shall reside, as broken glass,

Just one sad pile of empty  dreams, not still reflecting your colored past...

Now I sit beside what used to be, you that I knew, now just a dream,

This shattered mirror, be all that remain,

Of those lonely remnants of your in-turned pain.

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