Look into my eyes, if you dare, For something in them frightens and shivers your spine As you sense some dark power that is secretly mine. The animal part of you wants to run, for it’s aware Of a basic truth your waking mind can not conceive, For it sees in them the hunting skill, The lust for blood, the thrill in the kill, And an abiding hunger you would not believe— Hunger, with no reprieve. When you look in my eyes, you’re suddenly caught In the grips of a terror, a primeval fear Felt by every living thing when its death walks near. A terror compounded, for you never thought That one such as I, with a friendly, open face, Whom you felt you could trust with your very life, With whom you’ve shared secrets and pain, and joy and strife, Could have horror hidden in the eyes—behind the smile and honest grace. Death, too, has such grace. You’ve looked in my eyes many times before, And all you’ve seen was your good old friend. Yet this time, when you look, the illusion’s at an end And I, who was so simple, am revealed much more. The feelings you thought I had are now revealed, the lie And in their face, you see something cold and stark That hungers for blood and death—a thing of the dark. And with each glance in my eyes, you feel yourself die. I exhale a pleased sigh. My mouth says, “Greetings, how have you been?” My eyes say, “You do not have long to live,” And something in your psyche begins to give As the air between us thickens with impending sin. Ah, but an old friend called, and so you came, Trusting in one you’ve trusted before. Only now, you notice there’s so much more Behind the pastoral smile I did feign. A savage smile, just the same. And you, now, see the manic sheen In my eyes that promises death, And you find it suddenly hard to draw a breath As my eyes reflect the knife blade’s gleam. Once more, you see a smile touch my eyes, And old friends share a final hug As my knife blade eyes slice deep and snug. Impaled upon their point, something in you quickly dies. I leave it where it lies. Now, with hunger sated and desire quenched, The madness and hell leaves my eyes, And, once more, to the gentle soul, they give rise, With my secret self, again, tightly cinched. Again, I blend into the world and live their lies, Another person of the crowd— I’m anonymous, still, And you’ll never know me till you’re my next kill. So, forevermore, in everyone you know, look for the knife in their eyes. Such gentle eyes.
