He is nothing just throwing it away
Nothing but little to blame
All withered past the day
Thorough left to his splintered shame

Self-advantage sheltered once in me
A selfish ruin of lost control
The devil once tortured him among the unseen
For true is all that is remembered; baffled and withhold

Something but all a brutal essence
Crooked with mindless and deceived actions
He never beheld a large intend of such lessons
With all due to his respect,
his master's own intentions fractions

A diving behold but in remarculous form
Within stance from his cornered' throne
Belittled by all lies and schemes blended with such
Is all too late under what estimates morn

He tells all yet true lies within her
Such small and fragile he is held in intentions of much
Towered behind the days past
For nothing shall be granted and lasting

Copied and widowed by longing groan
Crept under lies and remorse under told by frames
Battled and scarred for his intentions of such and remains
Quietly shall he keep this up,
for he knows all is gone