Gray eyes,
The color of the drowning ocean
Stuck in forever motion,
In the center of
A pale, moonlit night.
Beautiful, I say.
Those eyes are pools
Of helpless ghouls,
Screaming in the night
To be taken away from
This frightful plight.
Beautiful, I say.
Those eyes are oceans
Full Of admirations.
It brings determination!
I want to jump into them
And succumb to my racing mind,
To submit to what is called my design.
I want to tell everything
To those beautiful eyes.
Rant about my troubles,
And watch as it struggles
To look away from me.
Under the sun, They shimmer.
Under the moon, they glimmer
Like a sleek, midnight swimmer.
No matter what happens to those eyes,
I will forever hold them close to my soul,
For they are the only thing that will ever make me whole.
YOU ARE READING
As Time Slows Around Us [Poetry]
PoetryAs complicated as time itself, like the silent conversations with the moon and sun, lie the complexity of the screaming but silent thoughts of the stars. "All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." ...
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