• I looked at a reflected image.
    Its shattered crystalline
    projected a writhing glow;
    thus, out the soul that is mine.

    Several pieces were missing
    followed by a dozen more fallen.
    All was left was almost nothing;
    only an iris glistening its pours.

    I wince to hold those pours
    to look closer to a mirror shattered.
    Peering harder only gave them sores.
    Can I still look at my small reflection?

    I still see a sparkle inside an iris...
    I held them shut since they felt red.
    The temptation to release them were too much,
    but I simply shook my head.

    I endeavored to peer harder,
    but I tried to no avail...
    My efforts lost; I'm a martyr.
    Beliefs to peer through...failed.

    Do I cry in dissappointment?
    Do I record my failings?
    Or sulk about it with its own sendiments?
    Do I dare to wallow up in this darkness?

    The darkness that so covered my image
    upon the given instance?
    I close my eyes to hold more crimson sorrow
    I felt light-headed as if in a trance...

    My eyes creaked open to see thousands of
    crystalline of shining chunks.
    I picked them up with my bleeding yet tough
    hands that reunited pieces into one...

    Several hours passed...
    I awe in rage for the image shattered again,
    but I continued
    to built a image, large times ten...

    Soon, my image fell in a cascade
    it may be broken,
    but a new mirror can be made;
    my point vaguely spoken...