Glass Eyes

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My eyes are made of glass, the silhouette of a mirror,

no trace of emotion, could it be any clearer?

Memoirs of tears I can no longer cry,

fractions of a soul that had worn out and died.

Like a scream in the night, they dream of a flight,

a fragment of love distorted by spite.

My chest caved in and adoration drained,

the love had died but the pain still remained.

My eyes, they see only the night,

for darkness has clouded my once eternal light.

Behind these eyes was a love like no other,

buried in a grave with no hope of recover.

My eyes waver like a bleak winter dove,

they see no evil and they feel no love.

A labyrinth of lies behind empty reflections,

they've made me a victim of my own misconceptions.

My eyes are a box and they've trapped me inside,

the isolation they bring me will be my demise.

Forever I'm trapped, beneath a valley of glass,

the feeling of love, I will never again grasp.

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