This eye, dead, glassy and unfocused as if it were a bad camera shot. Still it stands, taking in everything around it. Blue yet warm, it sees the good and bad on display; processing without judgment.
Relying completely on it, we blindly trust these tiny orbs. Its dark, piercing pupil is as empty as deep space. Light quickly turns to black, lonely like a dream, alone through the night.
It sees the world, this little sphere of color, and the world could not care. The world is reality, putting on no masks for anyone, always telling the truth.
Eyes deceive and see what they want.
