Eyes peering into the dark in which not a single spark
Of light filters through, and I can easily imagine a few
Sun dappled field , all black and yellow,
Cowbells chiming, soft and mellow–
Stillness shattered– a tiger’s roar!
The grass is spattered red with gore!
Which , I wonder, do I dread the more?
The blank dark space with it’s imagined fears,
Or a familiar face that changes shape, and leers?