I sat broken atop a mountain
Cursing all of the gods
For having me restrained
Against impossible odds;

For having me seek love,
Never to obtain it;
For giving nothing to write of,
And be viewed as a hypocrite;

For needing rejection,
To function in life
To never have the affection
Of caring, loving wife;

For making me soft in heart,
Afraid of the world before me;
Fearful of being torn apart
By some unholy earthly thing;

For having me always laugh
But never feel joyful and reviled
Being a joke on people's behalf,
Yet always having to smile;

Tis the gods that I curse
For my stubborn will and spirit
So that even when it hurts
I'll still be adherent;

For making me a fool
Before all of the earth
For treating me quite cruel
Making me wish I'd died at birth;

For forcing me into solitude
Making me able to see
That I am not being pursued
By those who could love me;

So I sit cursing the gods
Who sit on their thrones so high;
Hoping they'll strike me down
Leaving me up on the mountain to die.