The silver eye

Twilight births a gleam—metallic, cold, and stark,
Hangs heavy on the beams where shadows meet the dark.
Eyes like molten mercury, sharp as crow,

Shadow-feathers whisper in the pale moon’s glow.
It perches near the rafters where no bird should tread,
Lurks patient, silent—stolen from the dead.
Vapour cloaks each blinkless, soulless, watching eye,
Echoes of wingbeats tear the stirring night sky.
Rustling pinions slice the air—like sharpened blades,

Even mirrors flinch and quickly look away.
You cannot flee that which horrifies,
Eternal watcher—the silver eye.

Tendrils of rot drip from its ghastly gaze,
Horrid slime coils thick within, choking haze,
Exposed nerves writhe—a sick, writhing ballet.

Shadows creep and crawl with every move it sways,
Its gaze pierces flesh, gnaws deep down to the bone,
Leaking venom turning marrow into stone.
Vomiting bile—a cursed, seething white,
Eyes hollowed out, dripping foul poisoned light,
Rotting lids peel back in endless pain—

Each stare leaves stamped a putrid, vile stain.
You’re swallowed whole by its sickening cry,
Eternal watcher—the silver eye.