The Other Eye

There was a crash
from afar,
the shatter of I, me , another queen
with a sailor standing on a cliff
holding a stolen eye

There was a bard
I finally found
lost in the old momentums,
then queen broke his lying mirror lustfully
and taught him to defy
to see clearer

The mind being made of glass

he saw and held,
Is taught him to believe
that I rather be dead than
revel in being, closeminded, because
thee must be dead to the world.

Dear bard
my other poet, you are found now,
my other eye, Came has Come
the plato from your shatter island I will always
                                      keep


Question is, how far can you see?