"The eyes are the windows to the soul".
Hers? Hers were different.
So dark, often mistaken for black.
Her eyes showed reflections, of those around her, of the world.
She could make you question your very existence.
All that you are and perhaps, ever will be.
Drawing you in with uncertainty.
You'd beg to stay, to figure out the thoughts in which were hers.
Coming so close, only to come up short every time.
But she'll never give you the chance, always looking down.
Because she knows you're only in search of yourself.