• ~A simple window, a mirror of reflection
    I see a balance of tension within its creation
    ~The morning nature arose in its fresh tree pine
    Shining itself upon the window's shrine
    ~What do i see? I spy with my little eye...
    A sea of independence, and a faction of world pride
    ~Leading forth its beauty, a crack is present on the glass
    What could this mean? Was destruction awake in its past?
    ~Was is a breach of war in its satch?
    Or just a simple pile of rough, rocky ash?....
    ~A window's future, a glass stain on the mark of impearmability
    To be recovered? could this be the open solitude of infinity?
    ~Deer with long tracks sheer the day upon its past age
    Or was it just a present revelation of road kill that subdued its inward rage
    ~People withstood many triumphs and most filled with anger
    Some responsiblity taken, others tooken with pain and no hope to salver
    ~A mirror is worth an antique of power and immortality
    Not the glass type but our own view of sanity.