Her eyes reflected the love of mine,

that tumultuous ocean in her gaze.

I went out of this embodied self,

and yearned to get out of that selfish maze.

I reap what I sowed of all my seeds deep,

to love or anguish comes to me, and I plead.

Ha! The angelic bells the farthest heaven rang,

in the moment’s depth as she touched my hand.

Her hair in disarray, her eyes speaking its voice,

“Who art thou?” asks it in Shakespearen vice.

My whole body sways of that feeling of oldest fashion,

the mind lost, eyes watching,

the passionate dreams, all in succession.

It pleases me more, to look in her eyes,

to search the heart where that love resides.

Pleasures of those kinds, I yearn to possess,

to tell her with a kiss and my heart’s warm caress.

She looks away, her contemplation dwells,

the sorrow in her eyes, her throat swelled.

Was I the man she must have sought?

Or the fate was righteous of what she has already got?

She sees the storm that my eyes protests,

the unspoken fervor, at my sealed lips behest.

Hence she be happy, augment her joy manifold,

for the image of her face and frame,

will my heart forever behold.

2 thoughts on “Beholden”

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