Written by: Wonga Tsalupondo
Strange, now, this man who stands before me
Before, his eyes, they used to be eyes of pearls
From a distance, a boisterous blinding light would emit
The closer he would get; I would see that the light was nothing but an illusion
Little did I know that the love I reveled in was under the same sly spell
Unsolicited they would undress me the same way the beholder did
Unalloyedly I would succumb under his gaze,
And like a cur I would quiver and undulate under his hold
I would be tamed for his love was as poetic and lustrous as his eyes
His eyes of pearls held great mystery
I wondered as much as his eyes did, whether his life, itself, held that much of mystery
At first, it was thrilling not to have the answers to my thoughts
And it had seemed that the answers to an ever-lasting love was held in his gaze,
So did the secret to happiness
Until he came home a little late one night (pleased by a new desire)
He hesitated at the threshold of our door
I waited bloated with hope for the turgid light in his eyes
The light of his innocence and faithfulness
The same light that once translated our love to a mystical one
– Like an alchemy –
There stood my epiphany
Beaming right back at me
Casting a reminder that I would never have his love to keep
Strange, now, this man who stands before me
The veil has fallen
So has the verisimilitude light
His eyes are just as rich and peerless,
But they’ve lost their light;
His cloying lilac scent I once hungered for is now irksome
Our love now is as good as an elegy
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