Eyes, eyes, many fearful eyes,

Looking from their windows,

Coughing toward empty night,

Tweaking shadows with paranoia,

And murdering ghosts with light.

They are the wide eyed and worried,

No sleep to keep, no safety without fear,

Checking fence posts as the wind gusts,

Servicing security as the branches drop,

Looking for retribution, only seeing fault.

They’re eyes see clear as glass because selfish anxiety drives them to crystalize,

They dwell near heaven's halls, cheapening utility, longing for salvational depravity.

In their fantasies they hide behind bushes waiting for disparaging shadows to form,

Giving them chance to perform the entitled character they feel so inflicted to be.

For eyes, eyes, many fearful eyes is what they wish to see,

The strange formulations of a twisted neighborhood family,

Expectations of a privileged and creeper ruling society,

Acting the part of the all-seeing mind of poverty's plight.

Well, in your awareness you’re knowingly confined,

By your visions you’ll rush living for quickened time,

But in Loving Honest, we may all glide to cosmic time.