The Windows to the Soul...

Have you ever looked at someone's eyes?  I'm sure you have, but I'm talking about really looking in someone's eyes.  They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and I believe this is true sometimes.  Someone's eyes can tell you a lot about what kind of person he or she is.  You can tell a liar by looking in his eyes, as well as a thief.  But eyes are more than just windows; they are stained glass windows.  Works of art.  For if you look into someone's eyes, you will see nebulae and galaxies.  You will see untold beauty and wonders.  A whole world of struggles and triumphs will be seen.  I find that the patterns in people's eyes reflect the beauty of their soul.  Every person is valuable, and if you look into their eyes, you can see why.  Everyone has a different story to tell, for everyone sees the world through a different set of windows...

Don't Drift Away

Don't drift away
Until the faded gray

Come back to me
Come back and be free

You are special everyday
A fact no one can take away

I'm sorry I treated you wrong
No matter what I thought, it wasn't strong

I'm sorry I stooped so low
It's okay, the wounds still show

But look on ahead and don't look back
For the good days will outweigh those that lack...

Painful Memory

I have a painful memory that haunts me when I sleep
The scars keep bleeding again because they're too deep

The days will drive me crazy with doubt
Because this memory burns in and without

I find when I try to fight back
It knocks me down and off track

But I still try and stand up again
It's not stopping me from believing in

That which helps me to stay on my path
It keeps me focused and helps me laugh

Because whatever comes on this road called life
You can get through it, no matter what the strife

Life's full of ups and downs
Just don't let them beat you into the ground

I don't know how else to tell you
But you're still here, that is true

So be grateful for the existence that you be
Life is a blessing that I hope you'll see...

The Night of the Crimson Cloak Continued

Of a man cold with doubt
Whose face was old, and heart was stout

Who faced his fears that dreadful night
And made it through until the light

That was what dawned on that mystery man
Who only told the story because he can

His heart was right, his arm was strong
His cloak was bright, his words were long

A story he told cold and deep
That put the man fast asleep

When he awoke the cloak was gone
Into the shadows that became so long

No one believed the man's new tale
But the man knew it to be true without fail...

The Night of the Crimson Cloak

In the dark, mysterious night
There came a mighty big fright

From a man in a crimson cloak
Whose mighty fears he did evoke?

That of a man lowly but proud
Whose cunning grin his fear did shroud

That was the night of the walking bleak
But of whose deeds did he speak?


Continue in the comments if you wish

...It was a windy day when Eric was called next.  This time, they forced him through some special "training sessions."  He was forced to fire a handgun at a steel target for an hour straight.  The sounds of the gun pounded on his eardrums beneath the earplugs they had given him.

This sort of "training," as well as others, continued throughout the next couple times he was called.  When Eric threatened to go to the police, the New Yorker merely threatened to kill his family.  That stopped Eric, for the meantime.  He hated the times when he was called.  He hated having to lie to his friends as to where he was going.  But above all, he hated that he could do nothing about it.

These instances continued for a month, until he was called one final time...