Here I stand.
My mortal soul naked and imperfect
My weathered hand stained with the guilt of a human life.
I have nothing.
Nothing to my name but the worth of my words.

I offer you not the stars or the moon.
Not a passion that incurs fame,
Not stability, nor safety.

I offer you the colour and whirlwind of my soul.
In all its grotesque beauty,
In all its untamed rhythm.

Here I stand.
A vulnerable creature
A plagued creature.
I have nothing.
Nothing but the warmth of my soul.