It seems impossible to articulate
The specific degree of hate
I feel for what I'm not
My musings leave me distraught
I feel unable to change my fate.

I fear becoming the person
Who's mind just seems to worsen
That has lost the ability to grow
Creativity under the nuclear snow
Swept away by fear and coercion

I look now at what I've created
The only one by whom I'll be berated
Sees only mediocrity
I already regret this atrocity
I'll only ever hate it