When the night is dark,
when the room is dark,
when the soul is dark,
when the mind is dark,
when the heart is dark
I wish to look into your eyes
through a million miles
through a million lives
through a million bygone worlds
I wish to look into your eyes
and dare you to survive,
dare you to breathe
dare you to burn the light inside your eyes
dare you to gaze back into mine
When the world is blind
when the world is fading
when the world is looking away
and it’s letting go of its embrace
I wish to look into your eyes
to make you feel
make you feel my presence
make you feel my warmth
make you feel my will to bear your weight
When everything is dark
I wish to look into your eyes
and urge you to carry on,
hold on to the soft darkness
soothe your weary soul
until it all gently goes away.
Aug 17, 2019
Aug 17, 2019 at 4:41 AM UTC
When the night is dark,
when the room is dark,
when the soul is dark,
when the mind is dark,
when the heart is dark
I wish to look into your eyes
through a million miles
through a million lives
through a million bygone worlds
I wish to look into your eyes
and dare you to survive,
dare you to breathe
dare you to burn the light inside your eyes
dare you to gaze back into mine
When the world is blind
when the world is fading
when the world is looking away
and it’s letting go of its embrace
I wish to look into your eyes
to make you feel
make you feel my presence
make you feel my warmth
make you feel my will to bear your weight
When everything is dark
I wish to look into your eyes
and urge you to carry on,
hold on to the soft darkness
soothe your weary soul
until it all gently goes away.
Times are hard for me, these days. Days spent in aches and torment, a short distance from grey to black. One recent night, when my heart and mind were black, I found myself in my room as dusk was fading. The room was dark, except for the glow of my computer. I was hurting real bad. To help myself, I had set a self-portrait of Vincent Van Gogh as my Facebook cover picture. Specifically, his eyes. So, that night, I listened to music and gazed at those eyes as they gazed back at me intensely through the screen. Van Gogh had a tortured life, he killed himself. And years and years later, his work soothed me in my utter desolate loneliness. I wrote this poem in the dark, wishing it would help anyone who would ever find themselves in the situation I was in. Tormented and alone. I imagined, someone would read this poem and be soothed even after my own death. That they would feel my gaze through my words the same way I felt Van Gogh's through his art, that night. Be soothed, dear soul. This poem is just for you, you are never alone. We're all together in our lonely minds, feeling and understanding one another's pain.