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Immobile I stand. Watching, hearing
Listening, but never communicating
A hundred mirrors have come before me
All from a different tick and a tock
Each one like dessert and sea
Having no clue that I can see
Them--oh yes, I can see them
Walking, standing, talking, demanding
That I save them. Bah!
I am the standing stranger and they
And you are in danger
I am a spark on a magical canvas
And I am not the only one
Who can see the mirrors
Like the bugs that dance across my being

The poem is nice, and an interesting read. However, I think you mean "desert" such as the Sahara Desert and not "dessert" as in a frozen dessert.

@darkestbeforedawn

Thanks. I always confuse the two.