The Trinity

Hidden deep in ones eyes is a Soul. Few people, however, have stared deep enough into another's eyes to  recognize the gaze of a Soul: that gaze that portrays, gives away the desires and requirements of an individual. But once in 2002, when a guru took a deep sieve through my eyes, he found a world long lost.

I have served and studied under many. The Ontakers of protégé are participants of an old art, one dating beyond perception. Though there are masters of a crueler race, mine give me life unscathed. Along with a bond I can't explain. In my eyes you could see the kindness they passed on to me. Oh, my beloved trinity.

My current master's eyes share the light of a Bunsen burner. Their purpose peeks through the pupils. To look at the light increasing and decreasing in intensity, exponentially correlated to my achievements, is astounding. It’s funny to watch that kind of energy emanating from a woman that age. 

But of my three masters, my Trinity, I dare say that my first master had far more peculiar eyes. They did not light themselves; instead they stole light cascading from tree branches. She was a Light Thief. She channeled goddesses through those eyes, and brought life to her surroundings. I hope to see those mystic windows again.

As for my Guardian, her gaze is dark chocolate in flavor. You can feel it pierce the soul in ways indescribable, as a highly intuitive target feels a sniper's cross-hair staring deep into its brain. Despite all acidity, my Guardian is equipped with feathered wings. Through those eyes I've seen God's grace, amazing.

My eyes look nothing like theirs. Mine are the green you find in the meadow after a rain, detailed by the mud tracked in by grazing snow-flecked fawns. Occasionally my eyes decide that a tropical sky will become a part of these eyes, too. Then they become a different hue. 

But my Trinity believes that is what makes me different. They tell me that I stand out amongst the rest. However, I say that these eyes allow me to blissfully blend. Blend with meadow and deer and trees. Blend with the sky that surrounds us all. 

But now I stand here with blood dripping from the knife my Guardian gave me, dripping with the blood of what was my current master, and I see the film that has been overtaking those once Bunsen-lit eyes. I cannot help but wonder what signals they missed. When did my kindness leave? How on earth did they not see the disaster that resided deep in me? 

Oh, my beloved Trinity, I have destroyed you. No longer do my three masters support me, for only the Guardian remains. The eyes that thieved from tree branches what the sun so willingly gave are now glazed and cold. There's not a goddess now who could channel her back to mortal life.

But I swear that was not my fault! My light-thieving master was thieved away from me by the current master who I just slaughtered. It was one slit to the throat. I'm sure it was painless. I am very sure it was rather painless. I'm sure of it. It was probably for the best. Now my Light Thief does not have to see the wild eyes I wear as I triumphantly stare at my once master, once patron. My Queen of Thieves who stole my Light Thief.

"Perhaps," I think, "I have joined my liberation front." The internal war of disobedience and honor will soon be won. "Perhaps the demolishing of my Trinity won't be a bad thing. I will be free of my masters and their training and rules. Finishing the Guardian, watching her eyes glaze, is now the goal. My burn for freedom shall take it's toll. I shall pluck her feathered wings, and she shall be the target with the feel of a cross-hair.

Tonight, she shall meet the Almighty and witness his grace. And I will deliver her to His place.

Author's Note

Fire away. I need what I can get.

There's another poem that I did in the same assignment:

Tribute to a Once Friend A Poem by Midnight Writer