In shadows he dwells, unseen by beauty's light, A soul adrift, in solitude's bleak night. For he believes that realms of grace and charm, Are distant lands, beyond his reach, alarm.

With eyes that mirror oceans, deep and blue, He yearns for love, yet knows not what to do. For beauty's grace, a world he cannot breach, Where angels dance, but his heart cannot reach.

He sees them glide, like ethereal grace, Their laughter, like music, in this somber space. But in his heart, a whisper, cold and grim, Tells him he's not worthy, just a passing whim.

With every step, he watches, from afar, A silent witness to love's radiant star. Yet in his soul, a sorrow, deep and wide, For he believes beautiful women reside.

In dreams he wanders, through a world of sighs, Where beauty's touch, forever out of guise. But in reality's cruel, unforgiving hand, He finds himself alone, in this barren land.

So he resigns, to shadows, dark and cold, A silent specter, in a tale untold. For in his heart, he holds a truth so plain, Beautiful women, to him, remain estranged.