"Falling Plates Of Glass"

Staring, deep within my chamber,
Held up high a woodlock timbre
Looking down the road of journeys
like no other had begin

Felt the touch of warm breath, summer
Up alone here in my chamber
Staring deep into the glass amidst
Mere mirror, light within

There I saw not just my sighting
But aswell the flash o' lightning
Flashing, grashing, feeding every blink
Of shadows, wake my dream

It shone the path to dark o' frightening
Down the past of which eyes staring
Looming down beneath the well of brink
Of sins that I have gleam

For it not saw that I, shiver, not!
It shone the faces brewing plot
Which I, inturn wept end away
With scarcely bleeding skull

Alas, shriek I to frenzic daunt
The past o' sins had take thee, lot!
The mirr'r, grasped still holding way
In death's engraving hull

And as the raging, took the stand
Knowing nothing of the last
Made sure my face a knowing of
The sins within my past

"No sorrow shall I, take the hand
Of rated broken past
Now am, a falling f'rever to
In falling plates of glass"

-Francis