A Date with Fate

I wait for the end,
As the pain seems too much to bear.
Suffering be optional.
Yet tryst with it seems a must.
The sparkles of joy amiss,
The weary eyes,
Stare unblinking at the horizon.
The peace that the end might give,
Seems tantalizing and elusive.
It skirts hold
While the greyness
Of the way appears cold.
Aloof from all the music that plays around-
The pale face unable to emote-
The streaks of kohl settle as deep orbs
Of liquid pain.
Loveless or lovelorn,
The feet allow themselves be dragged-
In the slow pace of dichotomy.
The dry eyes,
Envision a tortured portrait of you and I-
The drumbeats fading out
While the barren desert awaits its Shaman,
To chant for death.
The mind traces patterns across all the Faces,
She has seen-
Yet in crowd,
She dilated pupils seek the only one known.
The grimness shows as a straight line,
As realization dawns that mercy remains,
At the hands of her keeper.
Bottled up in the queer spirit
Of bitter bilious love-
That gags her as it spreads through her-
Restraining speech-
Her silent plea for justice.