Ashen Hands and Golden Eyes
The wandering legs of students pass,
The iron chains of fences guard,
The sun above keeps vigil upon
These many pieces of this world attuned to purpose
Fickle faint hearted creatures to be claimed
Where is your heading?
Your anchors hang suspended above the ocean floor
Unsurity your flaw, constancy your bane
Your heart unlocked, but rarely read
Your soul fortified and constantly attacked
Souls peer through eyes
Inquiry brimming, hope bursting
Clarity is lost, for your heart too often ponders
Wonders rarely enjoyed, for the dissecting scalpel
Of my constant questions
Why? How? Who? When?
Naught is at peace.
Waters of your soul perpetually turbulent
Clouding your eyes, leaving orbs of your soul
Brown and dirty with grime
Precious are the few
Whose low lights beam to meet
Your searching eyes
Precious are the few
Perhaps I am not destined for a likeness
Similar of kind won't be afforded in this lifetime
The missing shards of my earthen heart
Wont be filled until I rest above
But amongst the charcoal hearts
I see a glitter of gold
Not likely forgotten by eyes so familiar with ash
Not likely forfeited one with so little
How precious you are
I can hardly breathe with wonder
Privileged am I to even stand in your light
How precious you are
Dug out of the soul
Exposed to my eyes, you only shine more
Through and through you hold
My hearts attention
Often have I dug for gold
Too often have I found aluminum wrappers
I am covered in their grime
Grease and grit encompass me
With timid feet do I approach
Naught should spoil your glow
Hardly dare I hope to claim you
Yet my very core aches to take
When in fullness you ascend from the ruin
I wish to hold you, paint you
Captivate your soul
So even if you go, I'll remember