Around sunset it happened,

While I was sipping coffee from my gilded cup,

Staring through glass at my own reflection,

A virtual image with a hint of refraction.



I remember I frowned

As I saw with dismay a hair out of place,

Curling from my forehead in a tidal wave,

Like the deliberate flick of the coiffured knave.



This won’t do it all, I thought,

Placing my cup with delicacy aside,

Lining up my face within the glass,

Imagining the image this morning past.



I gently nudged the hair aside

Checking that everything else was right,

Turning my head from side to side;

A trifle vain, I don’t need to confide.



While I perused my hair with care,

The light grew beyond the horizon,

A surprise I most heartily confess,

And provided not a little stress.



For I saw the sun set not a moment before,

As I stared at my face and the irritant hair.

It usually goes down to the west, don’t you know.

It flashed in my eyes like the white glare of snow.



Thankfully I wear my sunglasses at night,

But it didn’t protect me at all that well.

I cursed at the light as it lanced through my eyes,

It pierced through my soul and unraveled my lies.



The ascending rumble began, shaking the walls,

Cracking the glass, reflections recursed.

The first shake of God’s great roar never stopped

As the towers of Babel shivered and dropped.



The last thing I saw before I met you

Was the rise of the flame racing the wind.

As I was consumed, I noticed the wings

Of the angel of death and the end of all things.