The Mirror Garden

horror show of hero’s war,
paled by wars waged
with false mirror,

can recognize the killer but
but guard’s no longer
posted there,

he flares, n’ fires his buckshot glares
then flames out in borrowed
prayers
,

’til he’s nursed his knees back
to earth, at twilight’s
garden stairs,

in shimmer of new
mirror
s dare.

image: https://artzine.com/andrew-khalturin/art/the-mirror-is-not-what-you-see-but-what-it-reflects

image: https://travellingheadcase.bandcamp.com/track/broken-man

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