How long has it been,

Years ; two or just four,

Since I last saw myself;

And felt like that of home,

How mush has flown by,

Mere decades or days,

Since I last loved myself;

Despite all my flawed ways,

How much of winter has gone,

The grey rain or the snow,

Since I last adored the silver,

That let my eyes glow,

How much have I missed,

The dawn or the dusk,

Since I last welcomed sleep;

Unafraid of demons that lurked,

How much has been lost,

My heart or my love,

Since the last I took the risk;

Despite the fear of being hurt,

How much of autumn died,

The golden or the bronze,

Since the last I gathered leaves;

To decorate them on my gravestone,

How many pages have I inked,

The parched or the creamed,

Since the last I stringed words;

In colors ; yellow, pink and green

How much of glass has broken,

The stainless or the stained,

Since the last I knew the person,

Gazing back at me in vain.