Landscapes

faces: a signature to who we are
a tapestry of your being, both night sky and stars

So many of them I see most of days,
As I begin my journey to my destination, most of days.
Yet the world around me isn't too kind
Most of the faces are pale, Gray,
And sometimes, a stage
Waiting for the curtains to fall  
And—the face start to cry
Sometimes, some even sound like pale corpses.
Joy, sorrow, ambition and anger sucked out of their faces.

Then again—when there's darkness, the light shines bright.
Among them I see vivacious faces
cheeks as red as beautiful roses
Eyes full of spirit,
As enchanting as a starry sky
And pretty smiles
dressed up as a meadow of flowers

Come to think it, faces are indeed landscapes!
     A grassland on a delightful sunny day,
     A misty forest and secrets hidden underneath
     A beautiful garden and the smell of flowers delivered by breeze