Even if
I'm too real to fake
To feel, to break,
To steal, to take
Too Rigid to endure
Too clean, too pure
Too heartless, too fragile
Too hopeless, yet agile.

Even though
I'm too without flaw,
Without recklessness or law
A standard oath I read
Of blood red and
Passions I do bleed.

Oddly enough
I'm at wits' end
Purpose purged
And soul to mend
Tend to the strong,
How long how long
Until confusion
Within is gone.

Odd as it may be
My heart confined
My mind set free
Even with the maker
I shall cease to exist
A contemplator
Shall rise above mist.