.

                       The Mirror  

Through the Dirty Lens of 'Things not Completed'
  I stared for long, into the Glass—
Now Broken and missing half its pieces
  From Falling through it the night before last.

                            ~

Oh what debaucheries had we indulged?—

  What interrupted the progress of Days?

Where are my keys?—my wallet is missing—

  Bring me a Potion to change this Phase!

                            ~

The things I said last night by the Fire—

  Does anyone remember at all?—

I seem to remember it was getting Profound

  Sometime before my Fall.

                            ~

And thus sums up the Cycle Complete—

  Silence—Idea—Revelry—Void—

Regretting that there was no Pen nor Machine

  Nor Mind to Build the Voice—

                            ~

The notes I've lost!—or could not find!—

  The Words that never Arrived!—

I Forgive the Instruments, tuned and ready—

  For it is I who deem them Alive.

                            ~

For what is Lost, by me or None

  Was never Lost Itself—

It Remains,—as it always was—

  Waiting,   to be Pulled from its Self.