POETRY FTW

So, um, poetry.  I'm writing poetry, for reasons inexplicable to me.  But here it is, all up in this bitch.  Being the sad lonely bastard I am, this was written exclusively between the hours of 10 at night and 1 in the morning, over the course of about a week.  So tell me what you think, there will prolly be more to come.

Also, um, titles.  Titles are good.

Shattered Glass

I sit and watch the sun go down,
clear orbs of restless night
take refuge in my head.
I float through worlds of red and gold
watch the webs go by,
weighed down by guilt,
showing no face.
shadows creep with boots of lead,
true intentions
hidden in infinite space.

And I wait
for what is to be,
watch the screens of the past,
people
who thought they were free.
Iron rings
Chains to reality, chains to dreams
The glass box breaks
and out spills half-formed fantasies
all and one
Falling apart
At the seams.

The windows shatter and fall back to earth,
the air splits and tears
and I fall,
hands turned to stone.
refractions of light and time
play out across the screen,
and the glass turns to jade.
Demons watch me from my throne,
an infinite lake, 
balanced on a Razor's Edge.
And I wait
for what will not be,
angered past, saddened future,
and I
for what I would not see.
Golden wings
Chains to memory, chains to dreams
The glass box breaks
and out pours
Bleak Analysis
cynics and beggars
come apart
at the seams.


The clear moon trawls across the sky,
blank stars
the only solace
of a lonely earth.
A bitter breeze stains hearts of fire,
a royal beggar's lonely perch
of wrath and mirth.
Moonglow dances across my eyes,
a sea of shattered glass
paints portraits of shadows.
Yet I yearn, And still I try
I remember
the pain of joy
lies not in its' birth.