Carry on, my child
Though your feet are ******
And your hair matted
Trudge forward...
Through mud, through fire
Let your flesh burn and peel
Allow agony to suckle at the breast of your will

When you breathe, your lungs will ache
When you walk, your legs will shake
You will hobble to the feet of comfort and collapse...
Only to be turned away

My dear child, you are drunk and foolish
I have nothing to offer you but a shallow grave
Haven't you known this is only a game?
A pawn is a pawn, just the same