Interpretation of The Dead

Her painted eyes are always looking back at us
they say,that she analyzes them as much as they do her
She is looking through your lenses and false lashes
to your heart, measuring each beat
She will lift your painted veil,
and whisper truths you forgot about since childhood,
Drugged by her omnipotent stare,
we think we have soaked in her wisdom,
which causes us to turn around,
and fall drunk with rejoice, then blink
with our closed eyes.