He saw himself crying, in the mirror
And he shattered into finer pieces...
He went to his room with a hope
For a passionate hug and kiss on the head!
But all around were things lying dead!
He searched for a hand
In that shirt, hung on the stand
But all he found was a lifeless sleeve!
He craved for words of love
In the letter for seperation!
Then found himself deeper into dejection!
Tired was he, of the wait,
Broken was he like a fallen glass vase...
And when he saw himself in the mirror, Dead and crying,
And no one stood behind him to save his soul from dying,
He broke a little harder... Harder, into finer pieces!
But, soon he stood strong and sharp
Like each of those fine glass pieces!
Unbreakable...
For he was a man of a tough fate!
Tougher he would last... Tougher than today!
The_inkdiary
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