What good is this filthy downpour; I wonder
Oh, but how you tilt your head and present yourself to the water beads
Kissed, caressed, confessed- unflinching against the crash of thunder
Do you see yourself?

What is it that's holding you back from flying away
Even with your ever-loyal wings of shadows
Fear? I think not, the way you sway everything, be it the dark or a sunray
Do you see yourself?

Taking eyes off you is as farfetched as seeking constellations
"What's all the glaring about?", hell how can I explain
I have all the right answers to the wrong questions
Do you see yourself?

Do you see yourself? It's apparent that you don't
Lest you ask, "What am I to you?" and I have to say;
"Set about as a piece of art and ended with my wrecked armor."