842. Untitled - April 04, 2013
It is the smooth surface
that is so deceptive,
a murky translucence
underneath
that hide the infinite imperfections
that have formed within.
It bends the light
into a blur
that might have become
a shadow,
and distorts the image within.
The slightest of blows
shatters the calm
that held everything together
and cracks in half
the reality,
leaving crumbles
and shards
that lie helpless in the light.