Its pain is not subsiding, as I made <br />that dark substance of vision melt away. <br />No one asked the curator of the house of mirrors; <br />and also the one who had been writing <br />In the darkest labyrinths of time. <br />Lamenting some other darkness. <br /> <br />All were looking for some bright fresh dawn, <br />and somewhere were sown the seeds of deep dusk. <br />I brought it down on my fists; <br />what amazing creatures these eyes are. <br /> <br />And now they tell me, <br />that cure it with some pieces of glass. <br />Ah! My bright eyes. <br /> <br />Peshawar <br />Jan 23,2011<br /><br />Sadiqullah Khan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-bright-eyes/
