Heartless yet merciful tis’,
A cracked one in my torn pocket to please;
Into number of pieces it keeps multiplying me,
Even in darkness with latent eyes it could still see.


Initially unscarred and unscathed my wrinkled reflection with an MRP,
Dusty ages have gathered now to wipe using tissue papers of poetry;
I’ve a rendezvous with myself in wee moments of us without any battery for free,
In rear view,
Oft window panes,
Rarely wash basin of restaurants and seldom empty glasses sketch me incomplete.


We have smiled together to burst into mockery,
Even like naïve cries for latter moist kohl teardrops murky;
A chaotic satire agonizes as it’s infidel loyalty betrays not the reality,
Although a cracked one yet it scans faces without any partiality.