by David K. Asamoah

Those eyes tell not a story rich and grand
Like pompous bards of epic poetry old
Nor do they orate odes to bright morns gold
Those dark depths whisper of a starry land
And on the fateful odyssey unplanned
My soul took to the dreamy waters well
Hoping to leave with chronicles to tell
Instead, lost in that mythic gaze, was damned
To ever wander in that boundless night
With dawn’s face fainter in my memory
And stars offering but dim lit consolations,
Yet there’s an eerie beauty in the sight
Of heavenly shades inked in that gloomy sea
That leaves me swooning at their constellations.