The Shattered Mirror

An image of a broken mirror representative of the poem The Shattered Mirror

The shattered mirror reflected in a room where shadows blended,
A mirror that was laid with cracks that had torn,
Its fractured glass reflected the gloom,
The sorrows of an empty and desolate room.

Each shard had been a fragment of despair,
A thousand eyes that had never stared,
Their stories had been lost in time’s cruel twist,
A reflection of what had been missed.

The gelid air pressed, tight and thin,
As if the night itself might spin,
The glass trembled, cracked, and shrieked,
A haunting of forgotten lies.

Mystery had been seen within the shards so frail,
Where ghosts of dreams had not sailed,
A broken past, a fractured sight,
In a mirror that showed secrets that had been true.

The shattered mirror shimmered with a ghostly light,
Reflecting sinister shadows in the night,
Each fragment held a glimpse of disdain,
A shattered tale that would not remain.

The room was filled with spectral sighs,
As the mirror’s shards revealed betrayal,
The dreams that had shattered long ago,
In that room where sorrow had grown.

The darkness wrapped around the glass,
A ghostly shroud as moments had passed,
In the mirror’s fractured face,
Lay a haunted, desolate space.

The room grew colder, steeped in the past,
Where whispers of anguish were cast,
Each piece of glass held a mournful tune,
A requiem for a forsaken moon.

Through the fractures, shadows wept,
Silent sorrows forever kept,
The reflection of what once was clear,
Now lost in a realm of devilish fear.

Time’s passage had left a mark so deep,
Where phantoms of memories had silently crept,
The mirror’s shards, each one steeped in regret,
Had borne witness to the dreams unmet.

In the stillness, where echoes had wailed,
A tale of sorrow, a ghostly veil,
And as the night had taken its final breath,
The mirror’s silence had spoken of death.
Esther Elizabeth Racah

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