Ink bleeds whispers, secrets kept,
A story on paper, unslept.
Words like windows, veiled, and thin,
Reflecting a soul held within.

Eyes, unseen, guide every line,
A silent observer, entwined.
Their gaze shapes the moonlit tide,
Emotions in verses confide.

They watch as the reader takes hold,
A story unfolds, to be told.
Springs from the fresh eyes behind the poem