A Poem: The Hall of Mirrors

The Hall of Mirrors

Struck by a spark of light,
I am stepping into infinity, a circle closing in upon itself.
I am waking here in a dark hall of mirrors; there are few guiding lights.
I am haunted by the darkness,
But breaking free at last.
I peer out to see myself reflected, and reflected, and reflected,
But I am no longer a mirror:
I am a flickering light in the darkness, a spark about to explode.
I am the echo of cracking, the rising of heat in the room.
I am becoming the light in the hall of mirrors.
We are becoming a hall of light.