I paint my canvas white,
For there is an abyss in my mind.
At my heart I smite,
For the feelings that it binds.
Never found a soul,
Never gave a cry.
I am a tasteless ghoul,
Who’s soul has run dry.
“Have faith in me,
And I’ll make you proud.”
In these words I see,
But a great evil shroud.
I am very competent,
To break free of this bound.
But I’ve been made impotent,
For the laze that I have found.
This constant thought,
About emotions I covert.
Watch this body shamelessly rot,
With the title of Introvert