Eyes

By: Fox

In the utter darkness, the fire blazed, lonely in the shadowed night. Behind the fire were eyes that held an anger, hard to control. Queues of twisted light sparked in the mirrors of sight. They were watching, waiting for the time to slay. Some time before, they were a river, streams ran from each. The rushing rapids were agony formed by deception.


There was a time when the eyes lit up the world, a sun for those who orbited around them. Glistening rays of ecstasy filled meadows of optimism. The shadows were not an eclipse, they were only a shade in which to lay on the cool grass underneath. Bright and free, free to do what ever they pleased.


Clouds began to engulf the sky, the sovereignty was trapped in a barrier of fog. They were no longer independent, but shifted, watching everything. They had been ill-treated, and the torment was apparent. The shade which had once been a sanctuary, was now a place to be watched carefully, closely.


The eyes were lifeless now, there was no emotion. They barely opened to see the beauties of the storm, they only saw the sinister. Dusk blocked all waves of illumination, a black hole taking rapture. Slowly, the dark consumed all that was once remaining.


The rage now took over, the fire. The look that makes children hasten in fear. The blood that inhabits you in vile nightmares. The suffering of your heart, when you are deceived. The insanity that harbors your mind, against vitality and determination. The gaze that embraces your soul, picking it apart with nothing but pure curiosity.


No one helps the pain, no one makes it go away. It gets worse, the wind prowls up, swallowing everything in its path. Nothing is safe anymore. It is all lost, the sanity, the light, the tranquillity, all departed. Lost in the bleakness of it all, lost to vengeance that was meaningless, only to cause rupturing pain.


The eyes are gone and the sun burnt out, long since after those who orbited were destroyed. The last flicker of flame was blown out by a cool metal and thrown across an impressible flower, falling limply to the soil of the expired land. The eyes were left open, staring unabashedly into the starry night, now grieving for its mistake.

EYESSTOR
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