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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #929166
The moving reflection haunts me.
In a mirror
Of gilded silver
cherubs likely sleep so sound
but I stay awake
for the reflection haunts me
as it could no other

The light is dim
As the moon shines so full of grace
and the air is laden with the scent of incense
as I stare
could it really be
into divinity's very face

The lamps are out
a chill is present
but it's really my own whispers
nothing to block me from my self
as the moon still shines no time can erase

The reflection told a story
of failure and tragedy
that no one else could understand
it wasn't me to bear such sadness
a fallen child
no more
no less
© Copyright 2005 J.H. Michael (jesse89 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/929166-The-Mirror