Countenance

-Anuvab Chakravarty

As the raindrops kissed my ailing being,

I couldn’t help but ponder

Upon the persistence of the warmth ensuing

And the everlasting wonder.

“Why?” I thought. “Why?” I screamed

Into the lifeless, barren void.

I saw a face, eyes which gleamed

And I saw my castles of sand–destroyed.

A mystic siren, wielding her hypnotic lyre;

Had pulled me into this treacherous mire.

Igniting in me a deep, solemn desire

To possess, to crave, to sit still and admire;

To take for granted, what I had in hand;

And to reach out in greed for an exotic land.

To turn a blind eye, to the blood and gore;

And to keep fighting till I could move no more.

Images keep haunting my tormented soul;

Fairy tales from a forbidden folklore.

I've become a lonely warrior, a guardian sole;

Of a guilty conscience, a corroded core.

That countenance, those sea-green eyes;

The tinkling laughter and countless smiles

Had served well to hide a lifetime of lies,

A tale of despair, agony and a lost paradise.