Watch His Eyes

I was watching a friend one day and noticed his eyes had a red tint to them

His eyes did glisten a pale crimson red,
He speaks in riddles and envies the dead.
He dares to not shy from stars or from sun,
Always stands first in battle, never to run
His life has never been ruled by his past,
But to his memories he still holds fast.
Please ask no question, he tells no story
It is filled with cold and dying glory
He dreaded not the day of love’s first kiss
No holier day he’ll hold than of this
His word was his bond, a promise to keep.
Shed not a tear, passion buried too deep.
With those pale crimson eyes cast to the ground
Those sweet caring eyes weak, weary, and found