Woord wek woord en wederwoord en die gedig ontstaan dan ensovoort. - DJ Opperman

Brown Eyes


3 nominations

I've been told my eyes are lovely. That they almost hypnotize. Cool and coy or soft and warm, with power to tantalize. I'm told my eyes change colors to reflect the mood I'm in. Now, a soft and glowing brown. Now, black and cold as sin. Sadness turns them dusty black, ashine with unshed tears. Memories turn them darkest gold, gazing backward through the years. I'm told the eyes are windows, looking inward on the mind. Light and shadows enter there and soon become entwined. They say the eyes are traitors, that tattle on the mind, showing every thought that passes, whether noble or malign. Ego lives behind them. Emotion raging to be free. Mirror eyes reflect the soul, for all the world to see. But, the eyes are tricky devils, so the reader must be fast. The eyes commune with glittering light, like sun on broken glass. I'm told my eyes are devious. They never quite reveal the depths of my emotions, the things I truly feel. Somewhere inside's a buffer for emotions so intense. It acts to mute the tearing pain of sorrows so immense. Now, my eyes are filled with shadows, like storm clouds far to sea. My serenity's slashed and shredded by my yearning to be free. A dark stone wall surrounds me, holding shadows in this place shadows moonlight can't shine through shadows sunshine can't erase. So come and gaze into my eyes, look into their shadowed depths. Know the bitterness that's hidden there and the myriad tears I've wept. Feel the raging fires of anger. Know the precious years I've lost. See the withered hopes and dreams inside and count the staggering cost. Even though, "To err is human..." they said punished I must be and in the name of "justice" took away my liberty. These long years I've suffered. Every day I've paid the price. My tears no longer wash away the yearning in my eyes. Eyes once filled with mischief. Eyes that once were flashing bright, are now filled with grief and sorrow red with weeping in the night. But one day these eyes will guide me on the free, wide path to home. No more they'll know the darkness in a cave of steel and stone. Then these big brown eyes will sparkle with the joy of being free. Then my eyes will sing with laughter, because once more, I'll be me.



© azure warrior
2015-07-10

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