Eastward, Behind the sun

was it a drop of water
that rippled the calm pond
or the scream of a woman
in throes of anger

was it dissatisfaction
that shattered the looking glass
streaked with fine powder
sneezed and expelled

was it the fire of regret
that burnt slowly consuming
the golden circle
eating away the entwined hearts

questions unanswered
thoughts unspoken
indifference
silence....

looking blankly around
not knowing what to think
alone again
always alone.