rays of light strike sleek glass 
creating an unsightly mosaic.
upon glancing at it
melancholy manifests
and perpetually lasts 
despite diurnal drugs’ pursuing.
Aphrodite scorns:
Elysium lost
from a mere 
coin flip. 

with a touch, 
the pane shatters. 
ichor seeps 
from mortal’s wrist. 
thousands of shards 
scatter across the floor, 
the harrowed light 
at last free from abyss. 
yet my heart still yearns; 
the chains of sorrow
muffling its pulse 
irremediable.