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247: When Narcissus Lost His Mirror

  • Writer: Eudaemonia Records
    Eudaemonia Records
  • May 14, 2021
  • 1 min read

Reeds whisper around his legs as he sheds

his clothes and steps into the water, cold,

unmoving. The clouds hang low tonight. He sees

no reflection; no mirror for the man

he longs to see. He waits patiently

for the clouds to pass, for sights to be restored

to what they always were and will be.

But the world lies silent, heavy on his head,

like wilted flowers forgetting how to bloom.

By the time the clouds have passed, the night

lies deep around him, whispering in tandem

with the reeds. There is no mirror.

There is no mirror for him to see beyond

the darkling shadows scuttling between his feet,

and he weeps for the misfortunes piled upon

his shoulders. Rings spread out across the surface,

droplets fallen from unclouded skies. He tilts

his head back to see if he has sought

the wrong dimension, wrong world, wrong

time to be alive, but the stars answer

nobody's prayers, blinking cold through fumes

released from roads and factories, and deserted

testing grounds. They have no mercy, only

knowledge that time will grind us all to dust.

Written by: Katrine Hjulstad

Instagram: @katrinehjulstad

Publisher's note: All poetry published with Eudaemonia Records has been viewed and commented on by our editors. Ultimately, however, we believe that it is the writer's decision to accept or reject any suggestions made by the editors, and therefore take no responsibility for the final product.

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