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      A poem; Blind Love

     


In his eyes lay the mystery,
the story of how he fell,
Of what spurred and encouraged him,
and the real truth he knows so well.

With his words he did enchant me,
and paint landscapes far away,
Revealed to me his secrets,
all to lead me astray.

In his heart lay a flutter,
A beat of the weakest kind,
Trickled with notions,
influenced by his mind.

Surrounded me with flowers,
that did blanket the thorns below,
Covered me with happiness,
to hide his regret so very slow.

In my heart I felt the difference,
In my mind I knew the lies,
But it was his persistance,
that made my barriers demise.

Through time it eroded,
and the truth lay bar for all to see,
That what he really care for,
was not not a love for me.

In his eyes lay the truth,
The story of how he fell,
Of what had encouraged him,
and the lies he did tell.

In his eyes is where I looked,
for hope or love to be.
In that vast great ocean,
where he hide it all from me.

In his eyes is how I saw him,
not through my own as it should have been,
Because it was his who lied to me,
and made me blind to a love not keen.

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