i.
An old lonesome mirror stands there,
in the middle of an
abandoned room;
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
it’s manifestation,
breathing in this realm.
ii.
Since then in every mirror I’d pass,
I would search and see my eyes;
none obscuring
the shallow depths,
that the old mirror refused
to reflect.
But after hence, that wicked dream,
My mind was cruelly wrecked,
it kept wandering into
that abandoned room
where the old mirror was kept.
Alas! by now the smidge of presence
had walked far away..
iii.
Weary, broken,
clothed in tatters,
the heart it fell on the ground,
mourning for a murky figurine-
that now dwelt in the
clutches of oblivion.
My psyche just taunted
the delicate fraction,
weak enough to bow to the loss,
and cower in despondency,
while it bathed in
the glamour..
iv.
All ends, and so did end
the flight of
grandeur and fame.
And the thoughts that once would soar
were banished from the heavens.
Theirs wings lost feathers,
as each was ruthlessly plucked out,
by the satirical winds.
And I savagely plummeted into a chamber
lit by flames of failure,
forming a deathly beautiful
chandelier, hanging overhead.
But all that the rays would illuminate,
was a lonesome mirror,
that was unable to
portray the lies of the personage,
who projected the image.
v.
Then forth I walked
in the hidden lanes,
far away from the fabricated glam.
Collecting the pieces of past
that had faded away;
withering into a memory,
unrecalled;
buried underneath the decaying photographs,
that painted a soul,
for the soulless.
While walking
through those haunted roads
I lost the fear of
broken tombs,
for my life was too a pyramid
of half-truths and
deceptions.
And I remain nothing but the rejected debris
of a dejected hurricane.
vi.
So stumbling through the
graveled paths,
that I had walked with
bleeding feet,
I fell, on the ground with
thirst and hunger,
for a love that I was denied,
or perhaps that I had
betrayed.
It was then that I heard
the silent whispers
of foot fall,
approaching me, with almost a
ghost like eloquence.
Jaded, I refused to look up,
and leave the arms of my dark numbness,
but my weary eyes were
curious so, and peered straight into the mirror
where the reflected silhouette
wordlessly stood,
a peaceful smile on it’s lips,
as it slowly stepped
into the light.
It was only after I fell,
and bled and drowned in pain,
that the shadow in the mirror
revealed my face..
••ari purkayastha fallen alone
Ari Purkayastha is just another wild person with wilder thoughts, who thinks that writing them down might mean that the people around her won’t realize how out of touch with reality she really is, but she tends to write random gibberish in the randomest of places, so most already know. She likes words, and weirdly surreal metaphors, and sad songs, and has a sick sense of humor (depends completely on how you interpret sick). You can catch up with her on twitter at @ryekayas or just check out her blog fallen alone.
(And now I’m going to pretend that writing about myself in 3rd person didn’t feel weird at all)
Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:
Please read and enjoy the work of a talented writer.
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Absolutely mesmering from beginning to end. Bravo!
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Thanks a lot daisy!
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A very good poem. Thanks for sharing!
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I’m your biggest fan. 🖤
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😀
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I was tempted to argue with you Sam and chime in and say, “No– I’M her biggest fan!” Not a bad problem for Ari to have, regardless. 🙂
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Reblogged this on Brave and Reckless and commented:
Mesmerizing spell of words from the spectacular Ari Purkayastha
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Ari– reading this was like swimming in beautiful words: ” the silence sings of sorrow”; “While walking/through those haunted roads/ I lost the fear of/broken tombs”, “I fell, on the ground with/thirst and hunger,/for a love that I was denied,/or perhaps that I had/betrayed.” just gave me chills. You wrote a mesmerizing spell of beauty and pain and melancholy. I am still haunted.
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Thank you so much!❤️
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Reblogged this on RamJet Poetry and commented:
Mesmerizing poem from Fallen Alone’s Ari Purkayastha
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So stumbling through the
graveled paths,
that I had walked with
bleeding feet,
I fell, on the ground with
thirst and hunger,
for a love that I was denied,
or perhaps that I had
betrayed.
I found so much beauty in these words, all of them, but these squeezed me. A wonderful piece.
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Thanks a lot Nicole😊
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This week I was reminded about what is so special about ari. She is a writer who possesses special powers to use language to move the reader. It is an honor to operate in the same space with her. This piece showcases her a poet at the height of their creative power.
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Thank you so much Jasper for such a beautiful comment❤️
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this is a beautiful work Ari.
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thank you Dennis♥
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I couldn’t possibly explain how amazingly well written this was!! 😍
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Why thank you! 🙂
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Most welcome! ☺
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