The glass

See through the clear substance.
A small piece of glass.
Reflecting upon the life of a dead soul.

You break the glass.
Trying to set free the soul inside.
Yet all you see is pieces of clear glass.

The glass shatters.
Into a million pieces.
One soul takes flight.

See through the shattered mirror.
One piece still alive.
The soul stays.

Copyright 2007 Nyorioko.




Poetry by Nyorioko
Read 386 times
Written on 2007-08-28 at 22:00

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text