NOM DE PLUME
If as they say, 'The eyes are the window to the soul', please let mine remain shut, impenatrable
If, my heart, a door, let it remain lacked and barred, impermissible
Yet my mind is a Labyrinth, an intricate structure of interconnecting passages, figuratively
Inside these passages, memories run freely haunting, mocking, never to escape me
This Labyrinth is the worst of all this, eyes, heart can be contained
But never the persistant memories of you in my brain.