I can do nothing wrong.
Look at my virtues!
Not a single seed of conceit.
And I gain strength,
Upon strength, upon strength
By my good deeds I accumulate virtuosity.
Beyond compare of men around me.
Others envy my hallowed halls.
No other man can match my serenity.
It is so complete!
I know only the high roads.
I travel only the nobel path before me.
Paladin that I am.
When I am betrayed, so be it.
I am good,
Good beyond measures measure.
I forgive completely and effortlessly!
Because I am so much more than the aspersions of my counterparts
Superiority has nothing to do with my superiority over them!
I am good and they are conniving.
Soulless philanders!
I owe them nothing,
They are the dust under my feet
Hold...
Who is this embargoed self?
I am infected by virtuosity not cured by it...
Strength?
How so?
I am so deeply committed to my own pain that I have becomes its daily companion
Serene?
So wishful!
I am hidden, my guise betrays me.
My feelings dismantle me.
Good?
No!
My grief is helplessly tethered to cold stone like a chained submissive animal
Then Humility whispers,
"examine the roots,"
My roots sustain me.
"are you present?"
I am not present.
"you are enough,"
I am not enough.
"you are loved,"
I must learn how to love myself again.
"you have wisdom,"
Someday I will abandon this faulty Substance of a Man
Nov 30, 2024
Nov 30, 2024 at 3:33 PM UTC
I can do nothing wrong.
Look at my virtues!
Not a single seed of conceit.
And I gain strength,
Upon strength, upon strength
By my good deeds I accumulate virtuosity.
Beyond compare of men around me.
Others envy my hallowed halls.
No other man can match my serenity.
It is so complete!
I know only the high roads.
I travel only the nobel path before me.
Paladin that I am.
When I am betrayed, so be it.
I am good,
Good beyond measures measure.
I forgive completely and effortlessly!
Because I am so much more than the aspersions of my counterparts
Superiority has nothing to do with my superiority over them!
I am good and they are conniving.
Soulless philanders!
I owe them nothing,
They are the dust under my feet
Hold...
Who is this embargoed self?
I am infected by virtuosity not cured by it...
Strength?
How so?
I am so deeply committed to my own pain that I have becomes its daily companion
Serene?
So wishful!
I am hidden, my guise betrays me.
My feelings dismantle me.
Good?
No!
My grief is helplessly tethered to cold stone like a chained submissive animal
Then Humility whispers,
"examine the roots,"
My roots sustain me.
"are you present?"
I am not present.
"you are enough,"
I am not enough.
"you are loved,"
I must learn how to love myself again.
"you have wisdom,"
Someday I will abandon this faulty Substance of a Man