I can see it one way visibly,
but I know,
there are sides to both sides.
Wrinkled patterns infinitely echo
fine in my mind.
And out there in the contours
and the freckles of your eyes,
a constant strength is flickering,
burning embers so refined.
The darkness in my soul is lost
within your old design;
youth has lost its innocence
before they were yet refined.
Surely some revelation whispering
within the basin of our times,
follow each deception
til there is nothing left to find.