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The Soulful Eyes

Eyes that used to wake and sleep for me,
eyes that used to smile and weep with me,
eyes that used to wait for me,
eyes that used to brighten up to greet me
have turned away.
Eyes that showered unadulterated care on me,
eyes that promised unfathomable love for me,
eyes that gave assurance of unlimited support,
have turned away.
If at all for a moment those eyes turn for an instant towards me,
what all do l trace?
Skepticism,  criticism,  denunciation and disapproval.
Do l really deserve this is a question that troubles , that haunts me day and night?
A little introspection is ample to show me the mirror,
Those eyes abhor weakness, indecisiveness and fickle-mindedness, 
those eyes mostly hid the moisture that reoccurs in them to visualize every new wound on my soul.
Those eyes are waiting for me to do something concrete, 
to be the scribe of my own destiny.
Those eyes fear l might disappoint them time and again.
Wisdom full eyes have started to question if ever my inertia break?
If ever my common sense blossom ?
If ever l will be free from self pity?
Sagaciousness of those eyes l fear because when mind starts working emotions are at peace and at times sidelined and buried forever. 
I wish that the constant chasm of tenderness for me never ever dies and dries in my those soulful eyes.
















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