About
here's a poem i wrote cause i have nothing better to do, and i'm excited cause there's a copywright (sp) pending on it. isnt' that nifty.
Eyes of Fire
its is said
that the eyes are the window
to the soul.
to th inner lfame within us all.
but are they really?
is it perhaps the other way round?
the eyes are the souls window
to the world.
no one can know for sure.
it is true
that you can learn much
from the eyes.
you can see pain and torment
laughter and defience
anger and gayity
you can see guiltyness
lonelyness,
shame and envy,
jeolusy and hate.
then you can see happiness,
joy,
faith and tust,
hope and love.
most of all
you can see something
maganificent,
passionant
the inner flame
that drives us all.
wat of that flame?
always?
forever?
sputtering?
dead?
gone?
forgotten?
silent and bright?
the flame may be diffent,
unique,
or the same
it may be sheltered,
inclosed,
in dark corner again.
it may be brillian, radient,
a light in the dark
but always present
ever glowing
it may be dim
it may be light
bold and fearless
weak and afraid.
this flame may seem sheltered
nieve (sp) and alone.
content with itsself
untouched by the world.
but this flame
is far from innocent.
a long way from untouched.
this flame can be touched,
distubed,
affected and vunerable,
but it is unstoppable
oh do not diregard
it can be squandered
and dimmed,
bright
and a-flame
even put out
but forgotten it is not
and gone it will never be.
this flame, lost as a child
in a crowd
crying out
for something familiar
something warm and loved
the cry is answered
the loved familar returns
the child-like flame
smiles and dances again.
lost as the flame may be
it can always return
always come home again
it can open tht shutteres
unscrew the locks
let the warmth in
and burn bright
once again
safe and secure
a light in the dark
desprate to be seen
hanging on for dear life.
to tht soul it calls home,
to the eyes it calls window.
but are they really?
is it perhaps the other way round?
maybe they are windows
maybe they're not.
dirty or clean
curtained or not
open and wide
or shuttered
and locked forever
mysterious they are
lovely they may be
dead they are not.
it is said
that the eyes are the window
to the soul
something mysterious
passionant,
unique,
a windo w to the inner flame
that drives us all.
but are they really?
Buat Are They Really?
~me,
yeah anyways that's it.
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this is what i want to look like smile
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