Shattering the Looking Glass

I have shattered

the looking glass.

The haze clears

and I see the ruins–


and wasted.


Loose, waving curls

of acrid smoke

lick at the sky

like serpent’s tongues;

they seem to dance

above the burnt out


and hidden vaults

that I

laid bare.


It’s all exposed–

the useless trifles,

the rack,

and the rusted chains

which bound us.


Shadows slide

between burnt-out rooms,


with unknown purpose

towards emptiness,

and away from nothing.


Everything is gone–

prison and home,

secrets and promises,

truth in lies.

I have shattered them all

in the looking glass.





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