yes, glitterati,
I catch a glimpse of
a ghostly glimmer

where the building
has rusted or decayed
is nothing compared
with your grandiose corrosion

a novelist hunting
for your souls, a poet who
would capture you in his
icy text

lurking here, this I sense if
not quite know
for a fact

and it
could have been so different
if you had
waited in faith, taken
the time to learn and suffer

read the words that
smashed your
existing face, the face
from the mirror into
a thousand fragments

picked each eye up from the
tiny pieces of broken crystal

seen the
shadow feeding
off the light itself