Always judged, yet now I stand to judge,
not to scale your beauty, nor your grace,
but to appraise your heart, and such.
An angel's guise to ward off evil's face.

In benevolence, with its might, it uglifies,
to shield from harm, to halt the cries.

Avidly burned the longing for beauty's light,
for the devil dons allure to deceive the right.

Tarrying for the sight of arrival
sanguine still, despite deprival.

Ward off the darkness, be my guide,
Be my angel, in you my hopes lied.

Light my world, be my savior.
Be my alchemist; I am in dire.