Crumbling

I heard him stand on the mountain and shout,
"I am a box, and you think in me", he said
I shout back at him, he is beaten and broken
But still he stands, to shout at a mirror.

He is crying, but a smile plays on his lips,
His arm tingles, where the blade would touch,
Was it the love he was looking for that betrayed,
Or was it his own soul that took the shot.

He is closed within from all sides,
Jumbled with his emotions as they stab in,
He stands once again on the mountain to shout,
To shout at his own reflection in the sun.