Mesmerizing spell of words from the spectacular Ari Purkayastha
An old lonesome mirror stands there,
in the middle of an
existing in a domain where
the silence sings of sorrow.
And staring inside through the transparent wall
I see a shadow brought to life,
the same shadow that follows me in the dark,
now fades into my reflection.
And as my finger tips touch the glass,
the silhouette moves away;
as if ashamed of
breathing in this realm.
Since then in every mirror I’d pass,
I would search and see my eyes;
the shallow depths,
that the old mirror refused
But after hence, that wicked dream,
My mind was cruelly wrecked,
it kept wandering into
that abandoned room
where the old mirror was kept.
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