The Soul's Shadow

By Yuvan Deb

A spectre so strange, I viewed within the mirror  

Staring at me with hollowed eyes.  

Pleading for a name it was;  

Wretched was his soul,  

For he had no identity with him to reside. 

I asked who he was, phantasm blooming in his stare.  

Thoughts, poems or graves was he made of?  

Or the figure I saw, so sullen with cries.

I saw scars so deep crawling through his body;

In the intricate city woven from shattered memories 

His soul, a ghost wandering through the alleys

Searching for a place to find peace.

Torn was his image of self,  

With a past so rotten, so stale.  

"Will I ever find the lost,  

And retrieve the self so dense,  

O' boy?"  

He asked me with a voice,

Trembling in the echoes of silence.

By Yuvan Deb