Far from my sight
Only in pictures and dreams
Pieces of a broken imagination
They show me the iris
The pupil, the white,
The lids, the lashes
I’ve only seen what I wanted
But what else do I need
They are piercing my soul
So pure, so innocent despite the stories
Her eyes are magnificent
Windows to a child’s soul
Which I want to keep for myself
And it is even today long time gone
That I still see it so
From the mind of Cogliostro
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