Gnashing my teeth as I am tugged from both sides;
How gruelling is this, the quest for immortality.
Though I am no safer than I could ever be,
Still I must, run the race on barefoot flayed;
Looking behind I see the scarlet trail,
And the screams of my pain deafen me.
What must I hold on to for a perfect grade?
What is this, approval-seeking from a rotten core?
How do I weigh in the balance what must be gold,
When my senses betray me and what glitters is coal?
Shining brightly, I am entranced by a paradox,
But it all crashes down and I am beneath the rubble.
How must it feel to have oneself underfoot...
The true man looking down as Adam looks up...
His face one time pleading, another glaring...
He taunts me and plays me for the fool...
For indeed he has oft been the master and I the slave...
Why pity the scoundrel, KILL HIM!
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