Mystery marks the wretched soul
Lost in his dreams, evading the folds
Shrouded from the aptitude of one’s holy beam
While stitching life’s tattered patches and seams

Wandering around delusion’s thickly dense mist
Becoming a cowardice to the purple fist
Heart’s infatuation spills with every hard beat
Long awaiting a most hopeful and glorious defeat

Prevent the persuasion of dubious dark bends
Prevent the promises from the maker of mends
Hold to the veracity retained among your bones
So your veracious brio can finally be shown

What doubts and desires mask your pale and thick skin
What hidden secrets do you keep locked up within
An expanse of emotion to which no one can see
Waiting to be revealed by the turn of a key