Amy's Eyes

May 6, 2012
She burns with flames of a piercing shade,

Each spark a faceted dagger.

Her worn soles tread with confidence

On fiery shards of broken glass.

Meek, she must appear,

Her stature a sleek disguise;

But through the smoke of her smoldering words,

Her eyes.

The flames leap high and blazing around her,

Her eyes shine brighter.

They radiate the mysteries

Sunk deep within the shadowy depths of her soul.

She shines moonlight, beacons from her eyes,

To illuminate the turmoil, the battles waged in her mind.

Her joy floats up, like circus balloons;

Bobbing and weaving an intricate pattern between her scars.

They are windows, her eyes, shut and locked up tight:

From the dark, from the night,

From inquiring minds.

Few look to her eyes.

Few see the fire behind her smile.

Few see her beauty behind the flames.


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