Not the Eyes

As if from a fugue - I awaken,
with the room coalescing slowly,
sharp focus is pulled.
Nose to nose with this creature,
evil pure evil,
eyes smug and fat.
Dappled patches of evening sun,
flicker and flick,
I sit frozen in the light.
While the loaded silence builds,
I cannot be certain,
any time has passed at all.
Save, for the pressing of silence in my ears,
taste of lightening on my tongue,
the loss of all colour – the urge to run.
Glowing eyes regard me insolently,
with a knowledge,
that surely will not be told.
Still, I find myself knowing,
my attempt to out stare,
has utterly failed.