Sight fallen-down to the ground

My ability to see is blinded

The glass didn’t shatter as my perception did

It rests calmly on the wood

Wood itself seems at first soft, cool

But is found hard once felt

A first impression wrong.

As my sight lays on my loss of good opinion

I don’t disturb it.

To disturb is to interrupt

And to interrupt is to harm.

Light pours in nearby, its whiteness cutting through the dark

My eyes squint as it enters

And it reflects off my sight like it has rejected its rays.

It is knowledge that had fallen

Ideas disproven

And work of years and lifetimes taken in minutes.