I\'m staring.
I\'m staring back at the person in front of me, who knows exactly what I\'m thinking.
I\'m looking into the eyes with the same grief and sorrow as my own.
I\'m staring through the face of someone hurt, someone lost, and they can\'t find who they are.
I\'m looking through the face of a broken man, all the way down to their soul, that has been stuck in its own rainstorm.
I\'m staring at the complexion of someone that has seen things that can\'t be unseen.
I\'m looking into the eyes, burned with images of things most people are only haunted by.
I\'m staring at the bloodshot eyes, now filling with tears as they stare back at my own.
I\'m looking through the eyes, through the tears, and into the brain of this man.
I\'m staring at the painful images of true horror and suffering, flashing through their eyes, and before my own.
I\'m looking at the shadows of deprived rest under the eyes of a suffering man.
I\'m staring at the eyes, now closing, and we both see only darkness, until we are lead to a light at the end of a tunnel.