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The man never liked them,

Those orbs that wander and stare.

Nothing frightened him more.

Their mocking him didn't seem fair.

All eyes seemed to taunt him,

Threatening to damn his soul.

He ripped at his own flesh

And dislodged his eyes from their holes.

Still he could see all eyes stare.

His mind's eye could not be quieted.

Inner peace could not be bought.

His senses had all rioted.

Death seemed his only choice

To block out the all-seeing eyes.

But there is no hiding from the Almighty

As he looks down from the skies.

With nothing he could do,

Destitute in heath and care

He retreated to a deserted isle

For companionship he could not bear.

And there his only fears

Were of the vultures on the isle

And the pestering buzz

Of the mosquitos seeking bile.
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