OCULI

I see the world in other’s convex eye,

its’ subtle curvature weaves a pleasant decoy;

 the view hunts for those ‘pretty’ letters,

as transparent air evolves to pleasant jitters.

The pupils engrave a story by themselves,

creates a creator to create overselves;

 Iris is the curtain to that beautiful window,

permitting to enlighten the colorless shadow.

Angel of grace is born in wink of that eye,

it grows to the pinnacle as an unconquered spy;

eye ‘hopes’ to read through the mystic signs,

neither as an aberration nor with myopic decline.

The oculi is open for the rays to surpass,

waiting for the retina's impeccable pause.

Quest of the sight remains a puzzling art,

despite the darkness, eyes never depart !