Glass Eyes, No Soul

Eyes are a window to the Soul;
The very essence of life;
The thing that make up a person.
But what if the Soul does not exist?
Pulls one through tough times and happy times.
Without the Soul, we are just hollow dolls, toys,
To be played with for the World's amusement.
The amusement shines in the World's eyes.
Eyes are a window to the Soul.

The eyes are a window to the Soul.
The still, glazed, eyes that take in the World but are not part,
Cold porcelain figures dressed up merrily to please the World,
But no heart, no Soul, is embedded, no joy is never experienced.
The World steals the Souls of the Lost,
Through death and misery,
The World laughs at the Lost, for whom have given up.
Leaving eyes to become clouded, gray, cold, and dead.
The eyes are a window to the Soul.

Eyes are a window to the Soul.
Wishing to be blind, not able to see the horrors of the World.
Wishing, wanting, and pleading, but never receiving their prayer.
The World crushes the hope,
And leaves not, but an empty shell,
A doll with glass eyes, hollow, and no Soul.
Eyes are a window to the Soul.

The eyes are a window to the Soul.
Marred and grotesque, is my cold porcelain body.
Shattered and sordid, are my glass eyes.
No Soul, has ever been nor ever be.
I'm one of the Lost, a doll, to be played.
The eyes are a window to the Soul;
If only I had one....