Through focused will and grace, the select elect see the
unseen path;
Those who choose ignorance and rejection, are lost in their
own wrath.
The right route is never (or, is) clearly defined…
Irrelevant and relevant must be intellectually calcined…
This poem is like a mirror – in which there is a
representation;
A glassy reflection, where each viewer establishes a connection.
For some nothing is clearer, for others a complex summation;
Through introspection, it shows though who desire – direction.
With a crash –
A shimmering stone was thrown, which broke the glass;
Fragments on the floor, and all that remained was an empty
frame.
The broken pieces create a mosaic, tiny tiles of destroyed
smiles;
At the foundation, the designs were prosaic and stretched for
miles.
Nothing new seemed held in store, within the collage of the
same;
Illumination upon the shards, as time did viscously pass.
– With a flash…
Crimson, emerald, and azure –
Danced on the interior walls.
Primary colors and many more –
Everywhere the light falls.
The battered, tattered, shattered tedium may seem like utter
gloom;
Yet a vivid spectrum, through that medium, is seen all
around the room.
Composed By: A. D.
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