Infinitesimal, small creature...
Do you dare believe you are
Enough to do anything you want?
Do you believe you are always right
And all else is wrong?
What is it out of life you think
Is so important?
And how is it you feel so comfortable
In making so many demands?
You are so callous and crass
To believe you are everything,
Do you not know that
You are very insignificant?
Do you not know that for every law broken
There is a price to pay?
You assume you are always on the right path,
You feel you are strong
And in control of your own destiny...
Why do you taunt and taunt your fate?
You will, one day, know that much of
What you design is set upon an unhealthy path...
You will also know, in time,
That which is the truth...
But then -- will it be too late?