Glass

nothing was the same,
now that it was dead as Night.
were Sunlight once scalded,
Moonlight now pools.
were Shadows once hid,
they now abound, and frolic
in some state of spectral ecstasy.
the dishonesty of Reality
that Day once so cherished,
now, by Night is re-visioned as the great Surreal;
the Dangers hidden by the Sun
now exposed under the searching Moon.
She realized that This
was no less safe than Its prologue,
She became wary by the clear,
sharpness of It;
She held her life in Her own hands
as though It was precious as Glass.





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