golden
his golden eyes
hollow and vacant
behind his long hair
they stare
into the mirror
his pale face
even more so
with that black beard
his eyes
so hollow
there was nothing that could not fit in them
but there was nothing
nothing at all
no emotion
no feeling what so ever
and it did not even make him sad
cold golden eyes
stared back at him
the black pupil
like the void
emptyness
nothingness
his wrinkled face
his old hands
his skin in decay
yet no sign
of any feeling
the mirror
the image
it all ment nothing
there was nothing
he was nothing
but golden hollow eyes
he turned
away from this ghostly sight
remembering
his death
his body
pale
his blood
still red
but passionless
no fire
no more will
his eyes
cold
gold
empty
he felt it
his death
still far away
but so close
he would not change so much
in the time
that his death would wait
cold golden eyes
the sight of the mirror haunted him
seeing the truth
through the hair
infront of his face
the eyes
the eyes
in them
now he saw
as a memory
a million ways to die
and not one fitting
cold he felt now
not even imagination could give some releave
he tried so hard
but the eyes
golden hollow prisons
of a dying soul
that never dies
the golden cage
the black void
he now fears
they will see
the emptyness
that he is
that he has become
golden eyes
cold as winter winds
hollow like the well
that never has any water
gold
is but a fantasy
a rumour of luck
but a prison of emotions
gold is a curse
hidden in the void
of his eyes
hollow and vacant
behind his long hair
they stare
into the mirror
his pale face
even more so
with that black beard
his eyes
so hollow
there was nothing that could not fit in them
but there was nothing
nothing at all
no emotion
no feeling what so ever
and it did not even make him sad
cold golden eyes
stared back at him
the black pupil
like the void
emptyness
nothingness
his wrinkled face
his old hands
his skin in decay
yet no sign
of any feeling
the mirror
the image
it all ment nothing
there was nothing
he was nothing
but golden hollow eyes
he turned
away from this ghostly sight
remembering
his death
his body
pale
his blood
still red
but passionless
no fire
no more will
his eyes
cold
gold
empty
he felt it
his death
still far away
but so close
he would not change so much
in the time
that his death would wait
cold golden eyes
the sight of the mirror haunted him
seeing the truth
through the hair
infront of his face
the eyes
the eyes
in them
now he saw
as a memory
a million ways to die
and not one fitting
cold he felt now
not even imagination could give some releave
he tried so hard
but the eyes
golden hollow prisons
of a dying soul
that never dies
the golden cage
the black void
he now fears
they will see
the emptyness
that he is
that he has become
golden eyes
cold as winter winds
hollow like the well
that never has any water
gold
is but a fantasy
a rumour of luck
but a prison of emotions
gold is a curse
hidden in the void
of his eyes
26 dec 2004
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