Like a mosaic
of broken glass;
on rotten page;
and tragic past;
he holds himself
forevermore;
the pieces left
that surely last;
though not those all
were taken back;
but weighs the whole;
will-melting mass;
but glimmered most;
those broken stones
reflected well
his failure tasks;
as living soul;
on earth so vast,
but best he found
his only joy;
to now discard;
his torn up mask;
and shine so forth
his beauty blast;
but just for now,
his edges' track;
shall shape his soul
despite what lacks.
