In pleading eyes, unspoken truths reside,
More honest than the words the lips conceal;
They ask for mercy reason would deny,
And beg for wounds the heart cannot yet heal.
Those eyes have learned the language of delay,
Of waiting where no promise dares to stand;
They seek a sign that pain will pass away,
Or simply hope to still be understood.
No argument can match their quiet plea,
No strength can fully turn their asking down;
They mirror all we fear, yet long to be
Held gently, not dismissed, not overthrown.
For in those eyes, so fragile and so wise,
The soul confesses what the voice denies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem