Eyes

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i cannot trustthe hidden languageor the cursive scriptof your bold eyesfor they lend me nota receipt in paperof the exchangethey make with mine

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i cannot trust
the hidden language
or the cursive script
of your bold eyes
for they lend me not
a receipt in paper
of the exchange
they make with mine

what sorcery is this
to leave me roaming
in the desert of insomnia
to render my sleep barren
by stealing my sanity
from behind a silken veil
that hides everything
but those eyes of yours

is this a fair dealing,
oh haunting enchantress,
to tie me down with them,
the memories of your orbs,
oh those moonlit windows
that open into your soul
yet reveal nothing
of the shady interior

such a hopeless victim i am
of your drunken glances
and those drugged eyelids
that droop low in a haze
of the smokey champagne
spilled all over the floor
of my oh so helpless heart
that has no sense anymore

what do i do with this
intense longin' in my chest
the doesn't let me live
'n' doesn't let me die too
alas! no one warned me
about the poison of eyes
that sting in carefree times
to snatch all care afterwards

Author's Note

I don't know what led me to write this strange poem. Have you ever been enchanted by someone's eyes to such an extent that you don't think of anything but the magic of that one glance? Have you? In 21st century, has it happened to you? Do you still hold that ancient love in your heart that used to begin with the eyes and not smiles? If yes, then this poem is for you. I hope you liked it. =)

Much love,
Hazel ❤

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