That part of you that feels quite sick
When you're lonely and awake, and the world has gone to sleep
Is the part of you that still feels shame
For living the lifestyle of the sheep
Who can blame you for that form
The one you appropriately chose based on the scratches on your heart
That cry out for Endymion
The shepherd that saw your Titan form without a name, a clue, a chart
Admittedly I still take pride in seeing who you are
Because even you have separated from the skin that tastes of stars and chance
I wish you'd long just a little harder
Maybe then you'd see the aching girl still craves that midnight moonlight dance