[Chorus – Hook] Her eyes, like glass over storms untold, Shine bright but they hide what she won’t let show. You can feel every scar in the way they glow, Those are windows of the soul. Heart armored up, but the gaze says “no,” Love leans in and the shutters close. Every look is a fight that she can’t control, Those are windows of the soul. [Verse 1 – Chopper Flow] Fragile façade in the flicker, her iris is fire in prisons of history, Digitally vivid, the image is tinted with limits and miswritten liturgy. Intimate injuries, infinite infantry, marching in memory’s infantry lines, Chemistry twisted, she’s distant, resisting assistance in every design. Micro-expression confessions compressed in the tension around her jaw, Lessons of venom in blessings that dressed as affection, she catalogued all. Sentimental sabotage—damage is camouflaged under a casual laugh, Rational half wants peace, other half does math from the past—won’t relax. Echoes embedded in retinas, edited, replayed whenever you’re near, Autopilot for survival: arrival of kindness ignites the idea of fear. Everything tender’s a trigger—her rigor is rigid, she’s living in guard-mode, So even when love is a harbor, she charts every part like a hostile barcode. [Chorus – Hook] Her eyes, like glass over storms untold, Shine bright but they hide what she won’t let show. You can feel every scar in the way they glow, Those are windows of the soul. Heart armored up, but the gaze says “no,” Love leans in and the shutters close. Every look is a fight that she can’t control, Those are windows of the soul. [Verse 2 – Chopper Flow] Kitchen-light cinema, dinner-plate glimmer, I simmer a simple remark, Instantly switches to vigilance, vigilance vivid as sirens at dark. Minimal movement, but pupils are doing a bullet-train turn in her head, Hyper-alert to the hurt she’s absorbed from the chorus of voices she fled. Family calamity, lovers with vanity, promises vanishing quick, Hand on her shoulder once comfort, now every soft touch is a trick. Paranoid algorithm, she auto-encrypts all intention in code, Scans for betrayal in phrases, appraising inflection and load. I say, “You’re safe,” but the data she’s saving is saying “You said that before,” Replay of previous scenes on a screen in her core keeps locking the door. Logic is pleading, but trauma is leading; the reading is “Threat until proved,” So love is a knock on a fortress that tortures itself just to never be used. [Chorus – Hook] Her eyes, like glass over storms untold, Shine bright but they hide what she won’t let show. You can feel every scar in the way they glow, Those are windows of the soul. Heart armored up, but the gaze says “no,” Love leans in and the shutters close. Every look is a fight that she can’t control, Those are windows of the soul. [Verse 3 – Chopper Flow] Once in the silence, the sirens inside her were quieter, softer in tone, She lowered the visor, desire and tiredness tangled, she tried to be home. Hand on her heartbeat, the cartilage trembled, a signal of cracking routines, Part of her wanted to trust, other part clutched at the seams. Vividly visible, tears in the rim of her vision like prisms of doubt, Every admission she made to me felt like a mission she’d quickly reroute. Syllables stumble, she mumbles a sentence, then fences it off with a joke, Self-deprecation, deflection, protection of sections that never got spoke. Look in her face like a soldier who’s holding a line that is long overdue, Fighting off enemies, but in the melee she’s swinging at allies too. She doesn’t push me away ‘cause she hates me—she’s bracing for damage again, And any affection that steps in her direction gets measured as danger, not friend. [Chorus – Hook] Her eyes, like glass over storms untold, Shine bright but they hide what she won’t let show. You can feel every scar in the way they glow, Those are windows of the soul. Heart armored up, but the gaze says “no,” Love leans in and the shutters close. Every look is a fight that she can’t control, Those are windows of the soul. [Verse 4 – Chopper Flow] Particle-rapid, I map it: the pattern of battles that battered her trust, Sat with the shrapnel that rattled her, gradually gathered the fragments of us. Tactically patient, I’m tracing the spaces her gaze keeps erasing in fear, Practically aching, I’m taking the weight of her safeguarding year after year. High-speed empathy, mentally sprinting through memories she never voiced, Reading the code in her optics, the topics she dodges, the absence of choice. Laser-like focus on moments her shoulders relax and her breathing slows down, Rare as an eclipse in a wasteland of “never again” written over her town. Loving her means that I honor the armor while offering harbor and light, Knowing that closeness can trigger the hardest internalized warning of “fight.” So when her irises harden and target the heart that is trying to hold, I don’t abandon—I stand in the panic and see through the windows.
