Eye of My Enemy

In the course of an hour, I had stared into the eyes of my enemy. I said nothing. I did nothing, I swear to it. 

The eyes were vast and vacant as if they saw nothing nor reacted to anything. It was as if I was staring into an abyss, dark and hollow. It gave me the eerie feeling that I had gazed into my own coffin. There was not a trace of love or laughter. In fact, it seemed there was no life in the eyes. They were dead. 

… stay calm …  

The brown colored eyes mirrored my own. That of pure dark cocoa. Black like the night with no moon or stars and green as the dark evergreen pines in the deepest forests were woven into the cocoa… 

Could it be? Were these my own eyes I had seen!? 

…no...must stay calm... 

I felt pounding in my chest. Like a never-ending beating of a drum. I felt my blood rush through my body, making its way to my head. More and more blood. More and more my brain reacted with pure static. Pressure behind my eyes built and no longer were my breaths contained. It seemed I could not grasp for air no matter how much I tried to drink in. It seemed I was temporarily stuck between panic and realization. Tears trickled down my face as I grabbed what was nearest to me, a knife, and flung it at my enemy. DIE! DIE! DIE! 

… 

 As I stood there, before my enemy, who was now shattered and on the floor. Millions of pieces glistening as the suns beam starts to caress them. Silver was revealed on the sharp edges of my enemy. Silver … as if the eyes had been mechanic.  

The panic dissipated and the horrid realization occurred. I had stared into my own reflection. I am my own enemy.  

...must… Stay … Calm…

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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