Eyes

The eyes, a curse of blessed nature
They hold within an iron-clad grip
of soft and sweet design
a secret long lost to time

A secret of burning fury
and wallowed sorrow
Washing round and round
Beating the dam against which it pounds

So contained and taken
against the light in which you stand
Your eyes can see
only that which would make us flee

Thoughts and songs meld as one
To flow through the air and the sea
all imagined in your mind
and imagined by the blind

Then your resolve wavered
and your step faltered
You slipped away and the grief whirled in
Too weak to battle God's heathen sin

Then you stood tall, and pushed away
all that would harm those
that you may hold around you
and gazed away, to the sky of blue

The battle begins anew, fresh and true
The skies will shake and the earth will rock
under the force that rages in your mind
fuelled by things only your eyes can see
Blocked by the thoughts, and blocked by me.