On four walls, not even
shadow
In amongst the gaps of
books
Just on the cover of
notebooks
Between the lines of novel
On the screen of laptop
Knocking yet on the door
When does it vanished
From a prison free room
Sometimes with tearful
eyes
Sometimes with never
ending smile
A face on the wall.
A face at corridor
Just beneath the those
roses
Like the golden sunrays of
evening
Like the silver flash of
sunup
Amid the floret pots
When the wind breezes
When the sky is fallen in
midnight
When the silence chats
It goes off from the
unclosed sight
Sometimes with tearful
eyes
Sometimes with never
ending smile
A face at corridor.
A face into the window
view
Always getting not fear
Just behind the window
pane
Without creating any word
With the unconquered
gesture
That everything puts
Inside the ever open room
Both in dark and light
When the eyes do not see
the things
Rather than the face of
illusion
That disappears into the
noises
Sometimes with tearful
eyes
Sometimes with never
ending smile
A face into the window
view.
A face on the mirror
Instead looking like mine
Very closes into the focus
After the fatigued sunny
day
After little renewed of
shower
With limited secreted
riddles
And damn unfortunate
stories
That something utters but
no sound
Being carrying a history
Of two faces of a coin
If it seems clearer
Rather collapses in the
mirror
Nothing cracks on the
surface
There is no more than a realism
Sometimes with the tearful
eyes
Sometimes with the never
ending smiles
A face on the mirror.
A face in my closing eyes
Even in the long subway of
the dream
Even before the half dead
of a nap
Just next to own oily face
Once the dream gets climax
of an unknown tale
Did it wait for some
reasons?
Does it ask to identify?
Till the end of the night
and day
During restless rest
It dims away once clicks
to eager
Sometimes with the tearful
eyes
Sometimes with the never
ending smiles
A face in my closing eyes
A face is here and far
there
A face is at everywhere
A face is in me very deep
inside.
………………………………
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