In her face…
I feel the brush, of an early morn,
I hear the angels choir,
See innocence I've long forsworn… ... ...
While in my face…
I feel the chill of a thousand nights,
I hear the sound of hells own bells,
I see the fires lights… ... ...
Within a face, a human face, we judge the worth of man…
From ones amiable expression, to their status from their tan,
But in the face…when in the face… of a face you cannot see…
How do you judge the worth of man? …what will you see, in me?