Eyes are Enough…

~ Poetry | Occasional poems from Floating on a River series ~


You hardly need a weapon
to finish me and my story.
Eyes are enough
I am dead
in the grace of your smile.  

Nothing is as deep as your eyes.
Soulful, weeping and luminous.
Endless like our sea
and painful as poison.

I died the day you laid your eyes on me.
Instantly, straightaway,
helpless and hopeless.

I drowned like a child hurled in to the sea.
I fainted like a sinner cured by a saint.
I was lost and the miracles ended.

I gained myself while losing myself, too.
You’ve by now known
how shallow and incomplete
my soul is.
That very spirit left its cage
the day you touched me.
Spiritually, unwittingly.
Sometimes, a touch is a torture.

And I was buried
By my concerned friends
Deep inside the grave of a dream,
Or rather our shared dreams.
Inside a wilderness my heart had always longed for.

They wailed and prayed for my rebirth.
They knew I wouldn’t ever resurrect.
Gone forever.

Now what you see is my ghost.
A feeble, stupid ghost
of a former self who remotely resemble someone like me.

I die every day in love.
I live every day in love.

~ by MUHAMMED NOUSHAD, occasional poetry series, tentatively titled Floating on a River. Photo credit: nicko500.co.uk

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