The eyes are the windows,
Open demons damning
The quiet heart with looks
That could tell fears and feigns apart;
One can listen to the lies,
But lashes long and shielding
Cannot prevent the truth
From escaping wide and tired eyes.
Reflection is a wounded beast
With scars that mar
And thoughts of doubt
That never cease;
A mirrored image is a strange one
Indeed, for its distorted form
Causes ill-conceived ideas to swarm
In the heat of a summer’s sun.
Torture are the sunlit rays
Upon my clouded, weary gaze;
The bright light steals my sight
From beginning to end of day.
Taken captive by silhouettes
And shadows all around me,
Light and color fade away into nothing,
Yet somehow I still can see;
Blindness creates not a black void
But covers what is already there,
The burning flames from a blue sky
Urging my eyes to wither and tear
And sink into a grand abyss,
One where only darkness treads.
The corners corrode carelessly
All because of the sun’s fateful kiss;
It knows not why I should shrink,
Why I should fear to often blink-
Why I should fear never seeing
More than dancing shadows again.
I hide myself, surround myself
With the most beautiful things to see;
It is a relief, an escape from the total
Darkness I cannot seem to flee-
Yet to my comfort I find
That I am only half-blind.
Bravo @SerenaLantha, I love this poem. There are many about the eyes. None are as colorfully written as this one. You have written many wonderful and creative lines with awesome symmetry that is typical of a SerenaLantha poem. Though there are many, this is one of my favorites of yours to date. The ending is nothing short of epic....................
Write on SerenaLantha..................... write on
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