They call her the Faceless One.
You might take her for a statue.
Or perhaps a ghost.
She watches over the souls of the dead
'Tis her only hope.
Her face is blank
No eyes, no mouth, and certainly not a nose,
And the only good thing that comes from this
Is that her emotions are difficult to know.
They Call Her the Faceless One
Call her the Faceless One, they do.
There are many things left out in this poem.
And the most important one is you.
This poem is right. Many things are left out on the Faceless One's story. The full version has been in my head for some time. But the whole point of this is inspiration. Sit back for a moment. Think. What is the Faceless One to you?