A Window

A window and frame and shudders and glares,
all frozen in time,
all lit with repair.
A window I see in the passage of minds-
a window of mine and a window of crime.
I'll chip off the ice and sculpt through the snow
'til something becomes something more than we know.
'Til someone like you realizes my fight
to become not like me but a window of sight.
I waited today as the sun rose so high
above all the shallowed graves beating their chime
in a graveyard among burning vines of the grape,
when the world reached it's limits and met with its fate,
when the sadness engulfed all the people below
and left me alone on this barren world, cold.
On that day I surrendered my happiness too
along with my quiet, and solitude brewed.
I gave up my chance of knowing you now
because of the ones that i've hurt, and the how.
So lonely becomes what loneliness brings
and leaves me alone with the memories of these:
The broken, betrayed, beloved, and best;
the lifted, elated, and great among rest;
the one that helped those who've fallen below
a sadness and emptiness one couldn't know;
and last but not least, the one I'll forget
for he was the one who I'd never let
slip out from my fingers while standing so close,
yet throwing attacks at unreasonable dose.
The world would not sit here, so quiet, ashamed,
while waiting for endings and stories to break.
And thus it will swallow the weak and betrayed,
downtrodden and fallen,
with no hope to save face.
The world fell apart, but a window remains.
This window I've broken-
blood, shattered, it stains.