Because for every insult upon me is a cut on universal fantasy
Because for every wrong is a bad thought created for you
Because of these injustices you will burn in obscurity with me

You are pitiful
You are mediocrity
You are a molten fingernail

And I am the space between these letters
And the letters are crowds
And the sentences are people

But the sword is null
But the void is dull
But every living thing is meant to die and purpose is a particulate of dirt