Oh how
the mighty
have fallen..
off the shoulders
of giants that
might.

But in truth,
what’s to fall
from high heaven?
When within one
at all times
lives light…

When reflections
in my shattered
mirror..
gaze right back
into my
present soul..

I have lived.
I have played.
I have plundered.
I’m still young,
but I am
growing old.

And so do I
observe
in my present..
a reality
I dreamed to be?

I observe
what I am
through my
here and
my now..
all the rest
hinges
squarely
on me.