Soul

Did you know, many times I have tried to dive deep into your eyes
through that white submarine that floats in the middle in a partial disguise.
Like an adept sea-diver, I have passed the long shaft
that joins your eyes with the extreme corner of your heart.
I searched for traces of contentment, trust and maybe some preserved petals of hope.
Alas, I can collect some strewn flowers of marigolds separated from garland offered to lords.
In the base of your heart, I saw that hopeful solitary boatman waiting for ages for the slack waters,
He has to sail nautical miles unaccompanied; spending several dawns and dusks before touching the shores.
Also found a letter, half written and scratched; fearful of misunderstanding; away from deceits.
And a discarded amputated doll, sobbing at merrymaking days spent in ancient.
At final, when I entered the middle of the heart, it was light, more light, eye-filling light
that envisaged untouched, pure and indomitable soul of some primaeval might.