I am the resurrection of my own strength And the life of the love that i live I am the life. Still I rise beyond fear and phantoms Writing the blessed curse til morn I am the morn I have been cursed No doubt by my own tangibility And the desire to distinguish other's approval from my own The anxiety of influence of no one but My own sweet demons There are no demons But the one which holds Above all regard Myself In its mirror of terrible beauty Born from What?