Weaving in and out I lost my way,
distorted by my own soul grieving;
yearning for sight to shed its light
and direct me to where you stand;
the sun did rise and lit up the skies,
not to find you, but to see them.
And before my sight
cried one million eyes,
damp and dimming, they waited.
They probed my eyes where they found the sun,
shadowed by their own reflection;
as they turned away I swallowed my shame,
letting it catch in my throat, whence I choked;
for one million eyes seeped, in vain.
And before my sight
cried one million eyes,
damp and dimming, they waited.
While just beyond the silent skies
through this maze of dark and light,
again came your cries where I found your eyes
caressing their pain, and I wept;
for the sun had set upon their lids,
now dark and dry, they slept.
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