The Face
The face is a strange landscape -
It seems to have a life of its own.
The heart can't choose the look on the face,
It dresses itself for reasons unknown.
Often with tears in the heart
Laughter dances on the face,
And the features play Joy's part
When in the soul only Sorrow has its place.
Soon my face will regain its control
And turn into the mask it should be.
It can't force itself on the heart or the soul,
But through the outside the inside won't be seen.
I'll forget the tears, calm reigning on my face,
Its composure one to be respected.
Soon even laughter will be welcome at my place,
Its hollowness won't be detected.
I don't have to worry: my face has always been
A good tool of manners and clear sense.
If it could lie to you, keep my feelings unseen,
It can surely lie to everyone else.
But I will keep crying,
Though my face won't acknowledge those tears.
I'll gather them and keep them in hiding -
I'll have a sea inside me in a few years.
I will keep crying for you. Damn you -
Never taking and always ready to give.
You sought to save me and leave Death a fool,
But robbed me of the reason to live.
I am not accustomed to show my heart.
Why should I change my ways?
Let my soul and my face be forever apart,
Let no one know of my pain.
