Standing before the gilded mirror
head cocked
hair combed
beaming a buffonish smile.
Stony
the image stares back.
Never hearing the critics
ears stoppered.
Never reading the pans
eyes blinded.
‘I am great.’
‘I am right.’
‘I will win the world.’
Stony
the image continues to glare.
Staring in the mirror
seeing not his narcissism
perceiving proof
he is the new God…
one who triumphs
whilst destroying the world.
Stony
the image remains as he departs.