There’s a story behind those eyes.
The sun sets differently,
and the moon shines in the other
Secret gardens blooming in each alcove
with underground troves of words and memories
too deep to rediscover.
Be generous, oh eyes,
cry and cleanse the treasure beneath them
the treachery witnessed has flooded your ponds
wrecking havoc and drowning your gardens.
Weep away the dirt you forgot to sweep away
before they fossilize and erode the wisdom
you’ve been polishing over the
silent, exhausting, and broken years.
Beneath those eyes there lies a hero
fighting the mirage of a ghostly, ghastly, phantom devil
always watching and peering through
at all the scenes you see and do
collecting all the reasons for you to falter
digging ditches and setting traps for you to fall for
These are your nightmares, mirages that don’t exist
But the hero within, is real and persists
waging a war, a single warrior waving a flag
and waiting for your order
as You are the commander
and the phantom awaits your surrender
But the hero- the warrior, remains ever standing
for the call to finish your battle
ready to gift you
your due victory
and rewrite the pages
of your story.