Her eyes hunt with their spirit of marauding
She camouflages a thirst in those twin lakes,
Harbouring lotuses of a sinful curiosity, a sacred silence
Emancipation colours those irises a nocturnal shade of defying
A quicksilver soul sways in her unperturbed stance
Her eyes are those quaffs which swallow days & nights;
Every conviction or incredulity, time & space
They chant, “death to shackles”
Yet they’re a cuff to the smitten heart
Who could hold the strings of freedom
And unleash imprisonment?
One lingering glance chafes the patience of her beholder
Cuts the ropes around his madness
Urges it to soar like an invincible pride
Smashing itself under her pretty feet.
Dedicated to the muse of a man, who, was deeply involved in his own ruination in the return of an eternal longing. The latter outlived him.