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I watched the Glass
As it reflected the moon.
Horizontal parallel universes
Existing side by side
In the most perfect of harmony,
One existing,
One reflecting existence,
Mocking life.
Silence and stillness preside in this place
Where the Fragile Mirror rules
Protected only by such
Thin and placid water,
Never a wave, wrinkle, nor a ripple
Was ever to disturb the
Protector of the mirror.
And so it lay in perfection.
The trees that grow
Evergreen hanging over the mirror
And it’s silent, powerful guardian,
Each leaf a soul in it’s own right
Hanging, suspended in eternity
A living testament to the power of the mirror
And none were to ever disturb the sleeping mirror.
So my eyes gazed upon this silent universe
Forever in stillness.
Not a soul moved, not a leaf stirred.
There was nothing but perfection
All for the slumber of the
Mirror that reflected the moon.
I observed but did not want to disturb the power.
And yet as I watched,
The Great Imperfection came.
There was a scream among the
Souls that forever hung over the great mirror.
And so it was that one of the leaves,
Tired of it’s evergreen life,
Separated itself from it’s brethren.
It fell.
This leaf, bearer of the Great Imperfection,
Fell through the universe of existence.
There was a great commotion as the others
Yelled and demanded that the soul
Return to where it came from.
It responded not.
It only fell.
For an eternity it fell
>From the green heavens.
As I watched the leaf fall through eternity
I held my breath,
And seemingly so did both universes.
It fell, wanting to forget the past,
Wanting to forget all that had happened to it,
Wanting to forget life.
It fell, wanting to let it all go.
Down, lower and lower,
I could hardly contain myself.
I wanted to run out over the mirror
And catch the leaf, but I moved not.
I could not move.
All of my body was held to the place
>From which I observed the Perfection
And the Bringer of the Imperfection.
Held by fear.
Fear of what would happen if the Perfection
Should ever be compromised
And destroyed.
Finally, from what could have been
An eternity or a second, I knew not,
The leaf reached it’s destination
And landed upon the water.
There were no ripples.
There were no waves.
There were no wrinkles.
It landed upon the water,
In the center of the reflection of the moon.
The mirror, the Great Reflector,
The Withholder of the Power,
Sovereign, the divider of universes,
Opened it’s eye.
The moon became the Crimson Eye.
There it beheld the mirror
Resting in the middle of it’s eye.
It caused the water to ripple, once.
The mirror stirred.
Deep within it’s great and unknown depths,
It’s gathered all it’s powers
And used it upon the single leaf.
Now, the lone soul,
Instigator of Imperfection,
Was finally purged of the
Pain and misery that was given to it
By the tyrant called life.
It granted upon the leaf
The greatest power of the mirror.
The Power of Purgation.
The power called Death.
Then the mirror settled back
Into it’s deepest of sleeps.
And silently shut it’s eye.
The moon was once again
The Pale One.
Such is the coming of fall.
This poem is basically about being different from everybody else. About doing things differently and not listening to what other people tell you, following your own voice.
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