Utopian Eyes

I see through your eyes,
deep into your broken hope.

I wish I could touch your faith,
so the impossible breath
could break you down
into a storm of renewal.

You are not as melancholic
as your eyes show me.

Your depth uses the seen
to unveil the passion
buried under so much pain.

You can be discovered
in a glimpse
into your Utopian eyes.

The secrets you cannot keep
dissolve as your firm beliefs
are challenged by the force
of hurricane pains,
’cause it is in nothingness
that the true can be perceived
as a reality in fire,
under fire your Utopian eyes
as if everything
were to blame for so much pain,
once and again,
nothing left to gain,
so few who challenge the known ways,
and those Utopian eyes
become the source of so much change…

Weeping tired ideals
as innocent shattered dreams
fall into fertile grounds
as I see your Utopian tears
roll into the hands
of the uncontrollable
who will eventually
be the seed of eternity.

Our beliefs have no reality in a place
where black and white
become colorful possibilities,
and as nothing is as absolute,
my statement becomes black and white,
so gray comes back to play.

We seem to be locked in a circle
that delimits your Utopian eyes,
and as I see those endless spirals,
you might think I am limited
into believing in the unreal.

Could be…
Never denying,
never confirming,
always asking…
What is unreal?
Imagination?
Who is he?

I challenge you into digging deep
into your Utopian self
who hungers for an excuse
to go back into
those old and inspiring ways
that forged your character
into an abyss of love.

Is oblivion the palace
where you have surrounded
your dreams?

As I dig into your Utopian eyes,
I feel you have not yet
arrived there,
’cause your Utopian eyes
inspire to continue
what has not yet
been forgotten.

Why is there so much despair
in a place where it is up to us
to make a difference?

Perhaps, it is not about
the unreal, but
us, you,
us, me…

In me,
your Utopian eyes,
the one I see
as I unfold your soul,
my own Utopian eyes.

Utopia trapped
in the mirror of so many eyes
as we weep the unsatisfied,
lingering on the known
just because it fits our comfort zone,
what would happen if you took the challenge,
and made it yours?

Would your eyes keep being Utopian?
How would you realize who you really are?
Would it be too much to handle?

No more tears.

Falling in spirals,
into the depth of questions,
and the moment you let go…

No more fears.

It all becomes true,
pure, innocent,
universal love.