Whatever mirror one has, it reflects what appears before it. We have different mirrors depending upon which place we reside at, so we see different reflections of us. How disgusting that we despise each other's mirrors and different reflections ! We fight internecine wars over it and kill one another. This is a very deplorable scenario all around.
This hub speaks about such different mirrors. Hope we learn appreciating all these different mirrors and reflections.
My eyes don't see the near and far now,
They fail to see the guys so close and near,
My eyes betray me and follow the sly mind,
And my mind commands the dark blood.
I wonder how my eyes became so strange ,
Ways of pulsating heart do not excite me at all,
My eyes swept young leaves away and far,
I abhor alien songs and all different music.
My eyes don't want to hug spring's splendor,
All fragrance, bloom and beauty look locked,
My soul wears the attires what my mind says,
A giant of apathy grows blissfully in my heart.
My eyes stare and see all blankness in me,
and desires deceive them and spurn moves,
My blood knows not running in veins any more.
I keep on trampling upon all tender flowers.
I wade through ashes, and fires provoke me,
My own eyes mock at the tides in my sight,
A couple of eyes stare at my cold stony eyes,
My heart sinks deep into the depth of abyss.
Deserted lanes do not scare me the least,
I see my own eyes, how different they look,
They've forsaken me and how I forgot to see !
I don't recognize my own range of deception.
Awake only to my own dreams and my world,
My eyes don't want to see the blazing homes,
Shattered hopes do not vacillate me any more,
Pleased at my stay, the distant shore scares me.
My eyes deceive the mirrors of desolate hearts,
Orphans look like the heaps of dead leaves,
Falling down one by one with winds of wild rage,
I move past the dry tongues and gasping mouths.
Hungry sacs are cysts of existence in my eyes,
Deserted homes ripple not my soul, I move on,
My eyes have metamorphosed and duped me,
They do not see the seeing what they used to.
Every time they want to blink, they see all dark,
My mind brings up mirrors of its own so cleverly,
And my heart and soul are imprisoned so hard,
I see only my mind, the cynosure of my eyes !
© Harish Mamgain