Eyes ajar to the dark, once blind to the light -
oh, your luminance so profound to me now!
An esoteric mind for a psychotherapist to test.
Inside, cryptic messages to unravel.
So obscure is the brain bridged to these eyes -
mysterious, almost impenetrable.
This hidden part of myself arches
to what is hidden from me – the world.
This bridge, or shall I say ‘bond,’
may as well be erected with wood, not fleshy stone,
as it’s time and again burning –
untying me to the distant end.
Empty hands once full of another’s, now exiled apart,
waving frantically at the other, opposite of the afflicting inferno.
I can see the hidden world’s daystars beneath its eyelids now,
from whence those hands still offer its palms for mine.
Looking back through shut lids –
why does it close its eyes to me?
I don’t care how blistering the flames of normalcy are!
I want to cross and join you again!
My world has become quite saturnine and dark –
oh, I await the coming spark!
for many years now.
Written by gothicsurrealism
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