i am not shaped for every eye,
nor meant for hands that fear my flame
some lose their way if they step inside,
some turn back early,no shame, no blame.
my maze is honest, sharp with truth,
its turns not softened for the weak
i keep my fire, i guard my youth,
i will not dim to be more meek.
my edges cut, my light runs wild,
i do not bow to borrowed night
to those who see, the world grows mild
and bends around my steady light.
let crowds pass by, let whispers roam,
let shallow stares dissolve and fade
i stand complete, my own true home,
no part of me left unmade.
the point is clear, the path is known,
no borrowed maps, no second tone
to choose myself, my will, my throne,
and love this soul that stands alone.