A Face

The obstructed beam of the street light
Draws strange silhouettes on my window
Everytime the leaves flutter in the wind.
Then the rain erases all in its hasty flow.

In a daze, with sleepy eyes still wide-open,
I try to look at the shapes on the pane.
Now deformed, by the raging raindrops,
Some hysteric's laughter, defying all things sane.

There's a face hidden in the shadows on my window.
A face altered by innumerable eons of pain;
A visage: once the lust of many, the envy of some.
A face washed away by tears; and now the rain.

Shedding the numerous masks of laughter and fears;
My face is only a shadow: that, on my window, appears.