Slender beams of moonlight enter
this darkened prison as I kneel,
always lost, always forlorn,
frozen here,
waiting.
Accusing forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
rending my shamed soul.
Tears on a mirror's face.
I raise my head, now kneeling before
this impassive fate.