Within His Eyes

I learned to Scry
in the eyes of a witch
whose colors could shift
with the rising tide
and in those depths
I saw fractals of Time
the gods tried to weave
into something...
 
Something  
 
Tangible or... manageable?  
Laughable was what it became
for the days were named  
and the nights, they came
and the stars were engraved
with unintelligible script  
and no translation  
to relieve the vacant eyes  
which sat upon their
dying frames
 
The gods did not invent
the words written there
in the flickering bits of light
which linger in the dead
of our coldest nights
 
No, something older
primordial and silent..
in a language  
of cunning beasts  
whom they feared
 
And Time..
 
In the lucidity
manifested  
through the Scrying
of a witch's eyes  
I witnessed the lie,
the madness of illusory  
concept invented by
the ones who once ruled
the sky
 
Not just witnessing, no..
but feeling the weight  
of those markings
carved so cruelly
into those suns...
 
One word above all
drove our creators
to their extinction,
and that word...
 
Was Eternity