Sulking decay that brought me dismay...
Know that I address you not:
Not by the sun that glistens
Or the skies that gleam...
But simply due to the epitome of discontent.
I am not your slave,
I am not your toy.
I am thinking man.
A man quite capable of life,
Life, that you seek to rob so many of.

What you are, is something keen;
Something vile and agile that roams the earth.
Demon? I can't say...just all things wrong
That beckon heaven to resent it
And even hell to spit it out.
You are obstinate.
You are warm.
You are comfortable
Because you are death...
Standing still in fear of life,
You tempt humanity to join your plight
But I see what you are...
I've felt you crawl down my spine...
I've felt your gentle hands caress
This face I've asked the shadows to hide.

No...I won't bear your plague,
I won't accept your reality;
Dear, Bitterness, you are not mine.