I am the shadow girl you know

clutching at her door,

I am the wretch who hunts you so,

who screams in pain for more;

I am the tortured soul displayed,

the skeleton of what once I was

I am the slavegirl lashed and flayed,

the prisoner thick with blood;

And yes I am what I deny to be--

everything that I say I am not!

and I am the presence you fail to see,

who has lost what she never sought;

And I stare into these eyes,

these wells of fiery intuition

and I see there every soul that dies,

every mind that has ceased to listen--

And I see the tightly wound strings unfold

behind the layers of despise,

and I become nothing more than a dimming sun,

than a whisper of disguise.