My shadow drapes itself in a shroud of self-doubt
So frightened that being myself will return me to naught
Receiving reactions from here and there, I am runaground
I am moving on, no love to call my own it seems
Oh no
Love can mean anything; understanding, compassion, faith
Beauty is within, and never without freedom of change
I am soothed by gravity in the sense of natural fortitude
And I bring to the world I'm living in... peace
One step
Towards the heaviness of duty to serve the astute
I'd might as well surrender now to the words I speak
Someone made me, someone gets in the way
Of the destiny calling to me and my eyes
Oh you
Hold on to what is yours inside your vervaceous mind
I need something to blame, it's never me, no, it's you
Incomplete is what you are, without... without...
Incomplete is what you are without me




beauty

The poem had no rhyme actually, it wasn't meant to have any.


2 old applause
