I am not a misfit, I am a perfect fit.
I am the piece that is missing.
You are missing me.
You are driving me to exile, trying to erase evidence of my existence. You wish I was gone, forgotten, never born. And still you miss me.
What a cruel game you play with yourself.
You are killing me, while you are missing me.
For each breath you take away from me, I take one away from you.
Slowly we approach death.
When will you see that the spirit that flows through me is exactly what you need?
When will you see spirit? When will you see soul?
No, I am not a misfit, outcast, heretic.
I am a perfect fit, and I am exactly what you need.
Spirit of Tara 