I sit
frozen in time
before the windows of my soul.
And as my life is breathed out
as a pattern on the glass
I dream of the times
I found the sun
gleaming through
the crystal that was me.
But now I am one
with the grey and empty
expanse of the sky
and the drifting wasteland
of the sleeping world.
The last glimmer of the sun
extinguished by the rain,
I find myself
a dark and empty shell.
Yet still I sit
before the windows of my soul,
waiting for the sun
to someday glimmer
through the crystal that was me.