Late last night I heard the rain,
Splashing 'gainst my window pane,
A crash of thunder echoed from afar.
Something seemed to catch my gaze,
Somehow through the thickened haze,
A dot? I wondered, a mist-enshrouded star?
With dread I walked up to the glass
Waiting for the storm to pass,
A whaler's 'scope I took down from the shelf.
I felt myself on some dark mission.
As if out there lay some strange vision,
A test without hope I must solve myself.
Just as quickly as it started,
The rain stopped as the clouds parted,
Leaving but a peaceful, starry sky,
I turned to look toward the direction,
Of the dot my first inspection,
As for what, my vision still belie.
As the object became clearer,
Seemed to grow into a mirror,
Reflections seeming there both deep and vast.
While only fragments shown at first,
They all expanded in a burst,
A dazzling streaming showing me my past.
Yet no-one's taken inventory,
Of their unabridged life story,
With many facts blacked-out with a smudge.
Yet we find such cruel redaction,
May save face yet draw attraction,
We need look back to reassess and judge.
Every mind holds vaults well-locked,
Which if unveiled might prove a shock,
To best of friends or our nearest kin.
Yet it is not too much a leap,
To say our secrets dark and deep,
Rarely end all that much a sin.
So if you have the guts to start,
Probe the depths of your own heart,
Well aware that demons may be found.
Then again some inspiration,
Of your own dark imagination,
Could be there now useful once unbound.