All the eyes in the world tell a story, the left eye
Of what has past, all swirls and torrential downfalls of
Pain, the right eye in comparison shines all the brighter
Until the very dying day when they close. Splashes of
Colour and pools of gold are framed by lashes of lustre.
Windows to the soul, so we all know work two
Ways, look inside the eyes and see the truth, look from the
Eyes and see the world of entire lies that we provide so
That people don’t look in our eyes.