How is that I see myself,
as the blackened waters do?

Though I cannot save it,
it walks with me,
even in ridicule
and what color is it,
from within its soul
or the light I refuse to shine?

To search for something so deep,
yet I see only a flat mirror of no depth,
except I wonder what of myself in its hands;
when the sun rises I will ask the first shadow I see,
but I will not accept any answer without proof;
too bad it cannot speak in my own voice
or its own

I seek no nobility in my pain,
only to learn of its meaning;
sometimes
I care so much I cannot sleep,
wandering instead in my mind,
yet finding nothing new
I could cut off my ear
but what would come of it?
In the light it would seem a tragedy
but in a pool of darkness it is a mere reflection
not real
just a passing time of life soon to be forgotten

I began this self-portrait where it almost ended;
at the edge of a future for which I am no longer prepared,
though I am as long from my youth as I can stretch

They look at me as if I am their future,
but I ask for mine
because that is what will become of theirs;
if it happens as I have planned
then the moment I existed in fear
was as flat as the water that silenced my courage

Would that I walk with the knowing of my fate;
not for eternity for which is promised,
but instead for tomorrow

What will it be?

A reflection of my worry
or the dream that only I can see?