Fragments of a Shattered Mirror

Beneath the moon's reluctant glow,

A shattered mirror rests below,

Its fractured pieces catch the light,

Reflecting shards of endless night.

Each jagged edge, a tale untold,

Of battles fought, of wounds grown cold.

A splintered past, a fractured view,

Of all I was and all I knew.

The cracks reveal where pain once dwelled,

Where tears like rivers swelled and swelled.

But in the chaos of its break,

I found a beauty none could fake.

For every shard, though sharp and small,

Holds fragments of a greater call.

Together pieced, they form a whole,

A mirror of my mended soul.

Each flaw, a mark of trials braved,

Each scar, a tale of how I’ve saved

Myself from shadows, dark and grim,

To find the strength that lies within.

And so I stand, though not the same,

Embracing both the scars and shame.

For in the fragments, truth is clear:

The broken self is still sincere.

A shattered mirror shows it all—

The beauty in each rise and fall.

And though imperfect, it reflects

A life rebuilt, with no regrets.