Envious Witch

Who is this woman

in the mirror that

looks back with discern?

So what if she had in a life

too many heartbreaks for

one four roomed heart,

why does she look at my beauty

with contempt,

envious witch!

You say this is me?

Was I dust or

those nights and evening were

those joys and grieves

agonies and longings,

idle afternoons and

crippled memories- were

they dust too, Going by the manner in which

they withered off the

attire of my being.

Bring me a mirror from that

evening, which fooled me into

believing it will never end.

Or at least, tell a lie to my face,

I need my vanity back again

for a moment before I die.

(First published in The Literary Yard)