The angels mock themselves, juvenile
Completely hopeless
You watch them burn

You are not God
You're a drunk misfit
And yet you are fettered to a godly doom,
With no such glory to speak of.

Well then, why am I here you ask?
Well I'm about to show you.

And let this poem be forever evidence
Of the strangeness of this individual,
And how they were fated to be the only one
To experience the fullness of the Universe.