Self-created Martyr

Reflection of myself is what I've once found in you

When I look at me now I see something you'll never be

Sculptured by tears and winds of bygone times

With storms at my right and fire tongues at my left

I stand in front of you

Look in my eyes and see superiority – unreachable for you

Hear my laugh knocking down rotten foundations of your hideout

Weak – scared of your own voice

Blind – sleeping drunk with tears

Pathetic – begging for scars from orgy of life

Realize that you've never existed

If people search for acceptation in reflections of themselves

Then I'll become your greatest enemy

Father, what kind of creator are you

Giving birth to crawling crowd

Where everybody sucks salvation

Through the last resort – trust

Which they've been presented with

So much blood was lost

Small – jester at the mercy of bored lords

Croppled – never experienced the ecstasty

Ascetic – crucified by imagined sorrows

At the peak of the mountain

Surrounded by the compassionate people

You hammer nailes into the feet and palmes your love

But bloody wounds belong to you

Fucking self-created martyr