You watch and admire,
This robe of nobility

A man of superiority
weighed by eyes of the old

But,

I am just a lamb for slaughter
On burning pieces of wood

Between tongues of blue flames, That they die before I do

Or rather,

Before that shiny edge of the knife,
Slices through my bare neck

And yet,

These known dangers foreseen,
But shadowed by my self interests hidden,

Behind this robe you like
A man just like you

Delighted by pieces of shiny metals,
And comfort of woolen beds,

Enjoying pleasures of flesh,
And scented rooms filled with flowers,

Before tables of spiced meat,
And golden cups of wine

But yet,

I am noble as you think,
And indeed enjoy the warmth of this robe,

To sweat and bleed for toils than myself
The beautiful world of happiness
And stereo echoes of laughter,
Celebrating a life well lived