The Window

searching the soul
for what might be
here or there perhaps,
it isn't to be found

through whichever eyes
or whatever window
will a fresh perspective
finally reveal itself?

this confining space
ever collapsing inward
on the immovable fool
blinded by a dying star

there is only fog, mist
blinding and disorienting
all roads ahead, now
fading into nothingness

absolution will not come
not there and then
without a reckoning
and a shattering of glass