• I gazed once into those eyes,
    And they looked back.
    Maddening was their nonchalant expression,
    accompanied by a false value of self worth.
    It was as if they were dead,
    yet still carried blood.
    Blood.
    The same drink these eyes watched pour,
    As the cries of the innocent rang.
    Rang.
    Rang in the nearby ears.
    How badly I wanted to cut them out.
    Cut out those eyes,
    those eyes of the killer.
    Gods save me if those eyes lock.
    Lock onto me.
    Wishing to provide their audience to my death.
    My death inside.
    Inside.
    I realize now that those are my eyes.
    The eyes of the killer.
    For mine are the eyes of the killer.
    Their owner in the reflection.
    The reflection,
    Of the mirror I stand before, asking of truth,
    Truth,
    but what I see is death.