I bought a crystal figurine,

Of finest lead that I had seen,

Stood in awe of how it gleamed,

As it bent the strands of light.

Displayed upon the safest place,

So near my heart, so near my face,

Indifferent to a love’s embrace,

Awake through all the night.

How I’d pined for luck to own,

Such magic and so freely shown,

Accepting of my life alone,

Rejoiced in my admire.

Crafted in such fine detail,

Preserved inside a spirit, frail,

Eloping passions without trail,

This symbol of desire.

Possession has its price so dear,

When flaws project in forms of fears,

Souls don’t reflect themselves in mirrors,

In lives of bone and skin.

This speaks of weakness, not respect,

Of worlds of wisdom I neglect,

I cannot thrive in retrospect,

But prosper from within.

In time I’d sadly visualized,

Beneath the facets, oxidized,

I watched, so deeply terrified,

As spots became so stark.

Panic consumed my every gain,

Perhaps then tears obscure in rain,

Begging heavens for refrain,

As glass now bends the dark.