The Girl With Eyes

Have I ever told you of the girl?

Who wanted to see

The flowers of the world?

Who wanted to read

Its many, many stories?

And match things to sounds,

And sounds to things,

And people to voices,

And voices to people.

Oh, of all the things she’ll do,

Of all the things she’ll learn,

With a sight she’ll surely get.

With a right she’ll surely have.

Her want started when she was young,

As her mother told her of colours she can’t see.

Of beauties only truly understood when seen.

Though the sense of touch,

Helped the girl wander across pages,

In worlds distant and unimaginable,

Her ears spoke of opportunity,

Of stories in markets,

Whispers and secrets,

And tales that may be truth...

So at the dead of night,

She wandered a forest,

Hunting whispers spoken by the wicked and wary,

She went to a witch,

Some call a Queen.

Who was said to bring miracles.

Who told her she could make her see.

Who spoke words of sweet honey,

Kind to those who bow at her feet.

Standing on the forest floor,

The girl gave her plea.

For sight as clear as day,

That stands strong against the test of time,

No withering nor waning,

That no fog can ever blind,

To remember the faces she’s yet to see,

And replay moments she’ll soon enjoy.

The Witch nodded and smiled,

Promising to give those eyes.

So warm and kind,

Was all the girl thought,

As she took her hand.

And for all the pride she had,

In hearing unmatched,

In intellect untested,

She never wondered,

Of why a woman,

So gentle & courteous,

Has names that bred fear,

In the strongest Wizards.

She took the girl to the edge of the world,

Where the soulless arise,

And the girl, unfazed and naive,

Did as she was told, and

washed her face…

She could see! At last she could!

She could finally read the stories she only heard,

Gape at a sky she only felt,

She could finally see those she loved!

But sight wasn’t free, if only it were,

For its beauty held a price.

Beware to glance into vivid red eyes…

For a puppet out of you it’ll make.

A glare will set a forest ablaze,

And under a pinwheel gaze, truth will flow,

With every breath you take.

And its sight is the clearest,

Nothing hidden,

Nothing secret.

Only set to destroy,

Whatever poor soul

Stumbled into its look,

So beware of those who wield it.

And beware those who bear it,

For it is a priceless gore…

Always wanting more.

Standing in a ruin,

Of what once was,

The girl stood gazing,

at the sky.

So red and cloudy,

So dark and dreary,

Wishing for what will never

Ever

Return.