Cinders

poetry speaks

His eyes,

they sit in cinders

and stay dead like winter.

No twinkle present

nor shining minute

as they stare forward,

always dull.

Never looking.

His hands,

never trying

while always working.

Tired but never showing,

fingers that are null

yet swiftly moving.

Never pausing. 

His smile,

it curves so low

and has no joy to boast.

Speaks many tones

but no song it sings,

always mute.

Never laughing.

His life,

once driven by passion

and the joy of salvation.

Now controlled by

simple everyday living

and mere repetition.

Never living.

His world...

What about his world?

What about her?

Her eyes,

they sit and simmer

and warm him like summer.

A blinding presence

colored blue

like swirling oceans,

always sharp.

Her hands,

always caring

while never hurting.

Heals and never scars,

her fingers are treasures;

always held.

Her smile,

so small yet powerful.

A voice that sounds sweeter

than singing angels.

Always kissed.

Her life,

bringing color and purpose

to man who's dreams are endless.

More valuable than any wonder

or superpower.

Always living.

Her world...

What about her world?

It sits in cinders.

Reviews

[Azalea Rose]

I really enjoyed reading this! I always love when I come across a piece (very unique one at that) that has me on the edge of my seat wondering what the connections are. Beautiful. I think you were saying that his life isnt yet defined or his purpose isn't meaningful but he is interested in this girl who he thinks would brighten his dull world? I think that's what I got but it truly is about perspectives...

[unspokenpain]

Thank you. I'm happy you liked my piece. Continue shining. ^.^

[emmajoy]

Sad.. and sadder. Perhaps. Thinking of this as a man lost in his own world, time-worn, sickness, whatever.. has lost ability to be what he was. And she, she looks on, caring, ever loving, watching the man who was and still there. Perhaps.

I tried reversing the read of your two in one pieces.. and still came to the same conclusion, right or wrong. These words are gently dramatic, but, real as real within your fine language.

[Ruth]

Quite the contrast here, there is a tangible reaching for other worlds and yet in reality are they really any different or just worn with different faces of bravery, great structure to this and thought provoking...