The Broken Mirror
by Esther Elizabeth Racah
The broken mirror reflected a fractured world,
Facades twisted in the distant light,
The truth was lost as reflections swirled,
Clarity faded into the night.
Each crack told tales of dreams once whole,
Fragments were part of a distorted show,
Sighs echoed from the secret dwellings of fractured souls,
In the broken mirror’s shadowed glow.
Silvered edges framed distorted scenes,
A face with sights that could not be seen,
Reflections trapped in shattered visions,
Lost within chaotic reverie.
The silvery glass spoke in muted, splintered tones,
Revealing truths twisted and blurred,
A thousand shards held silent moans,
Where broken images remained unheard.
Each piece held a sliver of the past,
A memory splintered and unclear,
In the mirror’s grasp, shadows cast,
Untangling what was once held dear.
Fractured light created a maze,
A labyrinth of tales left untold,
In this mirror’s cryptic haze,
The past’s reflection turned cold.
A portrait shattered by unseen hands,
Happiness’s tales lost in grief’s embrace,
Mirrored fragments dispersed across lands,
Of broken hopes and shattered dreams.
The broken mirror remained a cryptic guide,
A map of what was lost and found,
In its shards, the truth tried to hide,
Within a maze where secrets were concealed.
Every shard held a story half-told,
A glimpse into lives that had been,
In the mirror’s shattered, fractured folds,
Dwelled memories of what was once seen.
The surface, once clear, now lay in pieces,
A burst image of days gone by,
The obliterated mirror retained its silent secrets,
In fragments where shadows still lie.
As the pieces lay scattered and cold,
The reflections faded out of view,
In the broken mirror’s cryptic hold,
The past’s echoes bid farewell.
