Crystal Tableaus

Once held by ancestors in shining dreams
Shards of pallor crossed on bright flaxen streams
‘Midst a clamor set to mad record’s voice
Played out, oft repeating one roted choice

In type, through sight to eyes they dismantle
Habits bred and built high, though set scantle
Draining on as life slides out from fingers
Waived ‘cross from side to side, each malingers

Heads bow on to crystal tableaus dying
As each slight glimpse inward begets lying

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