THE EVE OF MAN

At the break of day
When the moon is in full bloom
Snow lay on the ground
When summer came to soon.
The birds were chirping silently
Their confusion all to clear
Life holds many mysteries
And death is not to dear.
Day is dark and night is cold,
The children lost their way,
Without ears to listen with
Man had nothing to say.
Man was God and God was Man
Isolated worlds in which to stand,
In their minds so twisted
They made boulders of the sand.

"They" say that the eyes are a window to the soul. Eyes are a favorite of my artwork, this one was drawn with charcoal pencil and colored with pastels. c.1970

HAUNTING EYES

Behold the eyes that cast mental shadows in the pit of darkness. They look into you but show no expression of what they see. The image of doom you feel follow you everywhere, as do the empty mystery cast from the depth of the eyes. You can find no escape, no place to hide, for you know not what it is you fear. And yet you know, that, even in death the eyes will follow you. Fear surrounds you and blinds you by its darkness. Those eyes, those tormenting eyes! You can't find any reasoning in them, no understanding spark coming from them. The fear grows unbearable, the heart grows weak, finally death comes. But in death the eyes still linger on eternally. Where do they come from? What do they want? Think, think hard, maybe there is an answer deep in the empty black pits of those eyes. Maybe they aren’t so empty.

OH MY GOD!

What have I done? those eyes....They were my own!