The mirror that I used to see,
is not what I thought it to be.
One day it broke with a creak,
the broken pieces made me a wreck.
Oh how they pierced! Oh how I bled!
My soul left me and in the distance fled.
Walked on bleeding chips and stained glass;
Have you seen a heart bleeding? Alas !!
I pick up a broken glass and then I see,
to find a shattered belief - a heartbroken ME.
all the reflections have a tale to tell,
the flourishing of a belief, before it fell.
Irony! Broken belief! Unlucky fate!
Betrayal in belief etched in human trait.
My trust - now lost, dead and gone,
which I treasured like a beautiful morn.
Prasenjit©2022
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