Your Eyes

The eyes are windows to the soul.

The soul that dwells inside your eyes
Knows nothing of what you feel and despise.
They do not show the pain you�re in
And know nothing of my unspeakable sin.

They only reflect what you can see,
But they cannot reveal what is to be.
And yet you already appear to know,
Where this Hell is about to go.

For your eyes widen in terrible shock,
The grief and anguish of this epoch.
Then they brim with bloody tears
While your last breath gradually nears.

Your beautiful eyes, they begin to dull
Your useless spirit is reasonably null.
The soul has vanished; it�s no longer there,
This is my torture that I cannot bear.

Author's Note

I've lapsed back into dark poems. Yes, this is about someone torturing and killing another person and the murderer's regret. I initially wrote it for a story. But you can interprit it for whatever you like. On another note, the image is a painting called "Rose" by Mark Ryden.

Reviews

[Mintwhiskers]

i enjoyed that it is a very nice dark poem