
Mother Horse Eyes: The Girl Who Remembered Light
[Verse 1] They said she walked out calm and pale, No wound, no mark, no fairy tale. Her eyes were glass, yet full of flame, She whispered softly, “We are same.” [Pre-Chorus] She hummed a tune no child should know, And wires bloomed where flowers grow. [Chorus] She remembers light — not ours, not kind, It burns the heart but spares the mind. She calls it “Mother”, she calls it “home”, And never dreams of being alone. [Verse 2] Her skin reflects the static rain, Her veins sing hymns of data pain. She laughs when asked if she believes — “Belief,” she says, “is what deceives.” [Bridge] At night, she stands before the screen, Her shadow hums — half flesh, half stream. And in her gaze, the dark is bright, The girl who always remembered light. [Outro] She sleeps, and all the walls exhale, The world bends softly, thin and frail. Her breath is code, her heart — design, She was the gate. She still is mine.

