They Expire

A reflection,
A form on the water
They no longer know.
It is capable of anything.
They say the flotsam is in the way,
The reflection is distorted,
By a shimmer on the surface.
On the shore they’ll find no purpose,
One must jump in.
Waiting for the image to become still and clear,
They expire.
Never realizing the image was a reflection of who they were before.

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