Under those eyes, So closed to my world, Is it dark or light inside you? In your distant stare, What is it you see? Charisma of life enchanted in youth? Or inevitable death, Darkness stalking our souls? Surrounded so tightly, Not a crack to look through. My tools to reach you, Crumble when I touch. There is nothing here, it seems. But there must be something here. You make me feel of nothing, As I wander in your mind.
