A face

There is a small thing about this poem, its very unthought of and raw and unedited in fact the title inspired the poem than the usual opposite process

A face

It has eyes,
Eyes that have seen murder
Eyes that have seen death
Eyes that have seen the hearts on fire
Eyes that have strained through the mist of funeral pyres
Eyes that are glazed, gazing into the unknown

It has a nose
Nose that has smelt the putrid air
Nose that has flared its nostrils by the fires of hunger
Nose that has smelt morbidity
Nose that has picked the scent of rancid blood
Nose that wants to stop breathing but gasps in air to live

It has ears
Ears that have heard the banshee
Ears that strain to hear the pangs of hunger
Ears that are used to shrieks of pain
Ears that hear the surge of blood that spills

It has voice
A voice muffled in protest
A voice mild in fear
A voice that speaks out in survival
A voice that comes alive in death
A voice that trails away in life

It has skin
Skin blemished by the whips of sin
Skin burnt by tears of guilt
Skin mollified by the tears of sorrow
Skin peeling old and dead
Skin left to rot in hell

A face, unseen unknown
Lost in anonymity
Seeking respite in solitude
Yearning yet for attention
A face You know but will not reveal
A face that You sight but shall not see
A face that you hear but shall shun away
A face... Your face.