The eyes Ever watching, ever vigilant The eyes are the result of a series of coincidences Resulting in Something so subtle It is by far, easily overseen Something so sad It consumes one’s attention Something that keeps me Awake at night If I don’t stay awake Then at random times I do wake Thinking... wondering... I Should be deep in sleep But yet I’m deeply pondering ‘What are the chances?!!!!’ ‘What are the odds that the eyes appear? It’s not just eyes No, that’s far too dismissible It’s as if a human skull were sliced Horizontally into thirds All the we see All that I see At work Open to close Day in and day out Are those eye Hanging like orbs In fleshless sockets And neighbor to a fleshless nasal cavity Below And brow ridges Above There are details! It’s not JUST eyes. As you can see It is at work where this thing, This fraction of a foul face Resides. Like a magic mirror on the wall Yet it does not reflect It does not detect Or respond And deep down I feel as if it does It does detect It watches It taunts It laughs As we fight and yell and embrace negitvity as our blanket of well being. ​I wish Oh how I wish What I see when I see the eyes Was a work of art The talented touch of a mortal hand That, That would not be a pleasing thought nor would it be an unpleasant though it would just simply be An image without a second thought Nothing more than ‘It is what it is’ But it is not I don’t know what it is But it is more They are doors I close my eyes and sleep It doesn’t last long the door opens What is metaphorical In reality Is visualized the the mind When I try to sleep. They say The eyes are the door to ones soul What if These eyes are A door to a lost soul A lingering soul A soul that doesn’t want to leave It lingers longer and longer Leaving a lasting impression On the world Not just with the surviving memory of achievement But literally a lasting impression In the form of a Skull with eyes. Another question too... Has it always been there? Or is it new If it is as subtle As it is Then it is Possible to have been There for an eon And no one the wiser. A watcher A stalker From a far without binoculars In a place where you are more than you are home. What a gut wrenching Thought. People have talked about Written about Halloween being a time When the boundaries of worlds Become thin And passable crossing Of the deceased And the like To this world Is easier and possible Dressing up in costume In something terrifying And hideous Revolting and repulsive Was intended to Thrwart off any threat Any unwanted visitors What if doing so we actually encourage That which we were Trying to prevent? We dress up In what WE think Would freighten spirits Because we are frightening Ourselves We callous our minds Get used to the idea And yet when true malice and disconnect come knocking we are caught off guard and not just a little bit either No...we are unarmed and with our pants down Exhaustion from fear and a heartbeat from running a marathon without taking a single step becomes my shiny sliver of solace As I have left my bed But still need to rest my weary head Too much have I said In an effort to rid myself Of those ever vigilant Eyes Goodnight Wish me good luck

The eyes
Ever watching, ever vigilant
The eyes
are the result of a series of coincidences
Resulting in
Something so subtle
It is by far, easily overseen
Something so sad
It consumes one’s attention
Something that keeps me
Awake at night
If I don’t sta... reflective stories
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boydcreates
boydcreatesArtist/ creator of boydcreates.com
Autoplay OFF  •  4 months ago
A reaction, thought-reflecting poem of a design on sheet metal.

The eyes Ever watching, ever vigilant The eyes are the result of a series of coincidences Resulting in Something so subtle It is by far, easily overseen Something so sad It consumes one’s attention Something that keeps me Awake at night If I don’t stay awake Then at random times I do wake Thinking... wondering... I Should be deep in sleep But yet I’m deeply pondering ‘What are the chances?!!!!’ ‘What are the odds that the eyes appear? It’s not just eyes No, that’s far too dismissible It’s as if a human skull were sliced Horizontally into thirds All the we see All that I see At work Open to close Day in and day out Are those eye Hanging like orbs In fleshless sockets And neighbor to a fleshless nasal cavity Below And brow ridges Above There are details! It’s not JUST eyes. As you can see It is at work where this thing, This fraction of a foul face Resides. Like a magic mirror on the wall Yet it does not reflect It does not detect Or respond And deep down I feel as if it does It does detect It watches It taunts It laughs As we fight and yell and embrace negitvity as our blanket of well being. ​I wish Oh how I wish What I see when I see the eyes Was a work of art The talented touch of a mortal hand That, That would not be a pleasing thought nor would it be an unpleasant though it would just simply be An image without a second thought Nothing more than ‘It is what it is’ But it is not I don’t know what it is But it is more They are doors I close my eyes and sleep It doesn’t last long the door opens What is metaphorical In reality Is visualized the the mind When I try to sleep. They say The eyes are the door to ones soul What if These eyes are A door to a lost soul A lingering soul A soul that doesn’t want to leave It lingers longer and longer Leaving a lasting impression On the world Not just with the surviving memory of achievement But literally a lasting impression In the form of a Skull with eyes. Another question too... Has it always been there? Or is it new If it is as subtle As it is Then it is Possible to have been There for an eon And no one the wiser. A watcher A stalker From a far without binoculars In a place where you are more than you are home. What a gut wrenching Thought. People have talked about Written about Halloween being a time When the boundaries of worlds Become thin And passable crossing Of the deceased And the like To this world Is easier and possible Dressing up in costume In something terrifying And hideous Revolting and repulsive Was intended to Thrwart off any threat Any unwanted visitors What if doing so we actually encourage That which we were Trying to prevent? We dress up In what WE think Would freighten spirits Because we are frightening Ourselves We callous our minds Get used to the idea And yet when true malice and disconnect come knocking we are caught off guard and not just a little bit either No...we are unarmed and with our pants down Exhaustion from fear and a heartbeat from running a marathon without taking a single step becomes my shiny sliver of solace As I have left my bed But still need to rest my weary head Too much have I said In an effort to rid myself Of those ever vigilant Eyes Goodnight Wish me good luck

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