i am the bringer of my demise
and by my preparation i meet surprise
by my quest for knowledge i am no longer wise
by my courage to stand i can no longer rise

o! i curse the day i was born
let no one cry, let no one mourn
for everything i fix becomes all the more torn
by reaching for a halo do i grow evil horns

i am the flame that suffocates itself with its own rage
i am the runaway who runs himself into his own cage
by asking for more i lower my wage
by clinging to youth i hasten my age

o! the gods must think it hilarious
to make my every good nefarious
to make my every position precarious
and my only pleasure vicarious!

if anything is to be learned at all
it is that i am boxing with an iron wall:
the harder i punch the harder i fall
for what is a wall compared to a fleshly doll?