Cutting the Brain from Blind

The fall has a way of cutting the brain from blind
To whisper a fire and clarity comes to mind
Glowing eyes at the edge of the light 

Watch intently as the stars cross the sky
The frost in the air has a way to make the hunger pangs rise

These bouldered hills have more food for the soul than the body
That's how I know these pairs of eyes that keep a watch on me are hungry
Rising hair lifts off the back of my neck
Swiveled head with second guess and regret
The fear has a way of cutting the brain from blind

I've been found