She was light, I was glass, a reflection of the rays passing through me
She was light, I was glass, a reflection of the rays passing through me,
A dance of shadows and glimmers on the surface of my cracked heart,
Perhaps I wasn't the purest altar, for something in me always resisted,
Trying to mend her, to hold her, but shattering her fragile outline.
Her light scattered into shards when it passed through me, a sad kaleidoscope,
It wasn't her that bent, but all that was good in her warm essence,
I held her with sharp edges, how could I keep the light alive?
So, in the end, she faded, not from desire, but from the lack of a clear path.
I left her without ways, a labyrinth of cracked mirrors and lost illusions,
And I wondered, how can a broken heart offer shelter to the light?
She vanished, like a memory shrouded in mist, letting the shadows fall,
But perhaps in my reflections, she will always continue to dance, unceasingly.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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