Stain Poem by Jyotishman Debnath

stained
landslide in the four corners
in between hangs down a midnight
layers of dust
mirrors wind chimes books
in everywhere

dust and stain
cut and blood
sometimes I look at the mirror
a greenfield and a wasteland
a broken statue

and I ask myself
am I the same what I see in the mirror?
in the clouds of the sky of mind
a rippling pain reflects
but there is no glory in light
what if I were as dim as a sun?

the golden gate of desire
rays of hope a smile
a calm serene face
(yeah I want)

But no! I'm the greatest of all Hamlet's!
and let this fight go on
between me and me
until the sun fades!