Alchemy, Poetry, Psychology, Writing

The Deceiver

It’s never the eyes you should observe.
It’s the mouth.

Eyes are twin lakes
Filled with your dreams of the Other.
We reflect in them
Shivering daffodils in a storm
Yearning for recognition
Signs we are not alone.

The liar knows this.
He creates the perfect mirror
The Sacred Opposite.
Your beloved
Out of callous, ingenious play.
This toy of insolence
Mocking your solemn heart.

Eyes are not where you search
For the truth.
The retina is an optical instrument
Light is its substance
Its master
Measure for measure.

The Light Bearer
Had the most beautiful eyes in Creation.

But the lips
A muted hiss
The throne of cruelty
Gates leading to infinite passages
Labyrinths.
Daggers in the icy night.
Faint stench of dying blood.
This tightness of skin
Around the mouth
The miser’s jaw.
Pride.

It cannot be concealed.

There is not enough
Organic material
No soul substance
To extend to another.
No movement beyond
One’s own magnified self.

As God created Word
The perversion of it
Was uttered in defiance.
And it left a scar
That only the scarred
Are able to see.

Once you do
The reflection
Glimpsed
In those eyes
Fades to black.

But the wings
They are still attached
Motionless.
Reminding the Fallen
Of what is lost.

Understand
And cherish this
Thought
The longing you saw
In the eyes
Of the Deceiver
Is real.

© Milana Vujkov, The Deceiver, 2015

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