Shambles of soul,
Eclipsing her heart -
Feign testament to,
Aging work of art.
Remnants of feelings,
Tangled in past moments -
A mixture of vibrance,
Amid strokes of torment.
Pastel blue of her eyes,
Swirling window to her fears -
Churning streaks of bloody red,
Mingling softly with her tears.
The freckles on her nose,
Each whisper stories of her bliss -
To deaf ears, appear as flaws,
As if hand of artist went amiss.
Rosy crimson of her lips,
Simply pursed in poised peace -
Once blossoming in a smile,
Now painted here as mere crease.
Tiny wrinkles of her face,
Carry rivulets of past glee -
Pity them; they are smaller,
Than our naked eye can see.
Each contour of her form,
Slippery slopes leading within -
But within dazzles secrets,
That to unravel, would be sin.
And so the painting hangs silently,
Compliant to distracted eyes -
None peering closely to discover,
Clues entwined in painter's lies.
For now and then, it comes to surface,
Answer to her face's riddle;
Colour melding myth, in a mirage,
It's buried somewhere in the middle...
What did you think
Comments
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Wow
This is very visual! I am so new to writing and have trouble sometimes articulating how I feel about a a poem. This screams Beautifully Disturbing!
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This is amazing, i like this a lot, great job, i really liked taking the time to read this, you did something great here
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wow very well written, beatiful imagery
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a work of art, master piece you penned here Priya, with all your feelings. I am happy to share your feelings here
especially those of last stanza
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