Forlorn Girl

"When will my head be at rest
Onto a silent, caring joy?
Have I had yet the very best?
Is there more then to deploy?"
And so she cried, for night and day;
Her masters would not let her be.
It seemed though too wrong to say
Since her eyes the mind deceived.
Alas, she wept in restless grief
A silvery tear earthward then fell;
And with response, she found relief.
The sole aim: her words to tell.

One

One's duty cannot be avoided; I have tried my best to whiten his face - to an extent that I find most precious. For now, though he seems distant, blank, foreign - unloveable! - I find beauty in every ray his eyes cast upon me. I find luminous perfection in everything now. Oh, were I the same!
One's loving cannot be torn apart; there is this sphere that lets nothing in - or out, for that matter. But what I know, or perhaps, what I feign to know, is that everything is of the highest value, once in. How come it manages to pierce with undoubted power and safety and inhabits the sphere? Eventually, the sphere grows and grows, making room for another set of compassionate eyes. And thus remains the love unshattered. Mine is of a more invisible sort.
One's forbearance reaches the skies. I know mine is able to; but I feel no longer attracted to the idea of it. I wish I were...

Payback

"Did you know that a person can be deciphered by their eyes?", I lazily whispered, leaning towards his cheek.
"Then I should close mine, lest I should be solved; would you mind?"
"I could not tell if there is truth in what you render, dear. You are too obvious - I fear I have been mistaken all along."
His eyes that from amber had turned black in a glimpse caught mine in their game. And as I retreated alertly and made an attempt to diminish the intimacy between us, I said, "God, I wish I lived two hundred years ago. I would be entitled to receive your charms - you grant me now an option."
He turned his head and raised his voice: "I have a newspaper in that drawer. I am afraid it is only five years old, but I guess it will have to do - it may not be from the 1800, but I am sure that your imperial judgement will be pleased with it. For a moment, at least."

Waters

I wish my heart thought on behalf of my mind
And that my head loved one gentle and kind;
But from a willow's grace to silently care and weep
I am as far as a restless ocean's deep.
My daring fight somehow cost me less than more
If only I had the right my heart in drops to pour!
Oh, hear me who might, a quiet call I make!
Throw your eyes at me, steal what there's to take!
Fancy a thrilling chase through the bending dark -
Imagine a shallow sea, gather the courage to embark.
For waves I give birth to, with my dangerous thinking...
Should you ask, I shall answer without blinking -
That you, a mystery forlorn, have said enough
To make me refuse ever again to laugh.