The Eyes

For the whole long grueling day,

To mask our feelings they strive.

At night with darkness when they play,

The deepest emotions get revived.

Then sometimes they get flooded too,

To calmness of night when they speak.

Yet day and night they search the ocean,

That their brine would seek.

Is it not strange that the doors of light,

Within themselves such talents do hide.

Being the source of a gift called sight,

To our emotions an outlet they provide.