WHERE THE HUMAN HEART LIES

BY ALAN MIRZOEV ‘22

The trees leer at the surface of the lake Like cruel sages swinging in the wind The lake leers back with its critics’ sharp visage, Mangled and warped, Warring waves withering the mirror away Suddenly, the lake clears Trees and grass appear to us, no longer barren and gray, Branches and blades tipped with honey and poison We long for the lake, grasping Because even a second of sweetness is worth torturous eternity But the ripples and waves win the war . We sit in each other’s arms, Waiting with heavy, heaving hope . My heart says to you, “One day, the lake will clear again . ” The ripples claimed us long ago .