Your beauty is not the reason for your existence,
Rather, it is your soul that stirs winds within you,
Guiding you further into your own tornado.
No, my dear, your beauty is only a fraction of the person that you are
With the rest conniving and gloriously consuming all who listen
Incubus, I call you, luring in those who seek satisfaction from broken parts.
Tempt me,
with all the cracks in your heart.