In Thine Eyes
She gazes fondly into thine eyes,
with honeyed words and contented sighs.
They reveal a sweet nature of devotion
as constant as the steady beating motion
of thine enslaved heart, hammering fast
in a weak chest while standing aghast.
Her pure beauty, unrivalled by even the Fae,
who flutter euphorically as translucent wings lay
against golden beams, emitting light through
glittering drops of morning dew,
creating the illusion of mesmerising dust
with the power for life, death and lust.
She entices thou in with a beckoning soul
(that has a shimmering mirage but is black as coal).
Pulling men in like the fair Water Nymph do,
they drown themselves quickly, and willingly too.
Believing it is perfect, two inseparable turtledoves,
but thou art lost in a mythical love.
Tears in thine eyes of undeniable affection,
those eyes she gazes into, seeing such complete perfection,
and yet all she truly sees is her own reflection;
a smile – seductive smirk – set in a flawless complexion.
Cursed as Narcissus to seek her own beauty,
condemning the rest to Echo's cruel destiny.
Invisible, due to thine own fondness, from her view
and on drying thy tears she'll move to next in queue.
Keep crying, my dear, if she is to stay
and watch, while blind, as it becomes a cliché
of unrequited love, not meant to last for long,
and on regaining sight she'll be far, far gone.
So, all, close thine eyes so she cannot see
her raw and cutting unquestionable beauty.
Let her wander the land for all eternity
unsatisfied by those around; as lonely as thee.