He had death in his eyes.
The type of death that men avoid.
The kind of death some deserve.
Unnatural and heavy-handed,
Violent, cruel, hate-filled, and vengeful.
When it comes their time,
It’s up-close, and all-consuming
Eyes of the darkest black.
Luring them in and taking pleasures
Of the flesh, the mind, and the soul.
Blindly they follow, led to slaughter.
The predators becoming the prey.
Beneath lies the truer intention.
An emotionless gaze of forged steel
So hard, so unforgiving; simply blank.
When those eyes meet,
The eyes of the accused,
Wicked mortals; diabolical
At first confusion, which quick-steps to
Understanding, fear, and more fear
Black pupils unleashing a power
Boring deep into a man’s soul
Waking the sleeping giants
Gleefully ripping healing wounds
Tearing through mended fences
Plowing the fertile field of secrets
Digging into the deepest memories
Moments of comfort shattered
Safe spaces reduced to ash,
No stone untouched,
Thoughts perverted and twisted
Thoughts of evil whispered in the night
Thoughts too revealing transferred
Pain, suffering, anguish, burning,
Unholy and without remorse
The heat suffocates and permeates
Reflections of flames
Thick billowing acrid smoke
Stench of sulfur and brimstone
And endless agonizing screams
Hell, imprinted on their psyche
Soul under his control
Pleasurably pulling the puppet strings
No limitations to his debauchery
Darkness seeping from their every pore
Infecting, infesting, destroying, digesting
Death in every vision
Until he tires of this plaything
And brings him or her home
To burn for all eternity
For more poetry like this, visit www.thegypsythread.org
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