with an aim to find yourself,
you search inside the depths
of the oval body it is with its
gilded edges and its reflective surface.
and yet all that seems sincere
are your abysmal, alluring eyes
the rest that looks at you is
your flawed and familiar face.
then you turn to the shadows,
by now, vaguely knowing it is in vain.
they snarl harshly at you,
shed tears is all you do.
even when you beseech them to stop,
they insolently keep afflicting you
with daggers that they have crafted
using words that can wound.
in the end, you turn your back
to all the dreadful deceivers.
and you simply start believing that
what defines you is your soul and mind.
emancipated from the lies,
you see that who you are
is nothing visible on the surface,
but something burning deep inside.
- the conflagration burning within you.
YOU ARE READING
blizzard irises
Poésiea collection of poems woven with some gruesome and some lovely 3 a.m. thoughts. cover by @aluminates
