I.
I am my own shadow
I observe my own flaws
I recall my own prospect
and I eradicate my own laws

II.
The rhythm can batter me with the touch of a hand-
     but only if the world can detach itself from demand
And the music can strip both ears from my head-
      only when demons chose the daylight instead
Contradictions can paint me a macabre visage-
      if descriptions will lay their ambitions to image