In your head you say,
An ache that I be,
In your head is where,
I sought to be,

You claim me mental,
And of ill reprise,
You call for my falling,
And my demise,

Yet, all I can feel,
Is a sense of glory,
Knowing we speak,
And tell our story,

For in a world of survival,
One man must stand out,
Be strong or be clever,
Your skills you must tout,

For against your desire,
Be it folley or true,
My persitance unfleeting,
I can never undo,

For so I shall prove,
How my chance has been given,
How even your contempt,
For me be driven,

You give me a raft,
Yet you wish me to go,
Instead of my life,
You lay yours at the roads,

You say you do not drink,
But this leads me to see,
That you'll try new things,
Because of me,

You could cut off your ears,
To let my words fall dead,
Yet you only wish to remove,
The voices plaguing your head,

The voices I add,
That seem to drive,
The reason you feel,
Another date won't survive,

You say don't tempt me,
Which means it can be done,
Perhaps not with objects,
But something more fun,

And as you walk away,
I catch your last glance,
To leave you alone,
Just give me a chance!

Penned by my hand on the 19th of Ero, in the year 601 AF.