You without fault, without guilt, without stain,
You whose purity depends upon your wit
You whose brilliant mind could defend your imperfections
Through your words, ideas and hallucinations.
You who cannot accept defeat or loss,
You whose pride could reach the stars
You who live in your little world–
A crumbling painting away from the skies.
It is only I who can destroy you
For it was I who created you.
It is only I who could save myself
From this intricate monstrosity I created.
It is I who must bring your undoing
For it is through this that one’s absolution comes
It is I who must return
The light you have stolen.
It is you who must fall,and it is I who must cause it
For I am you, and you are me,
And through this, we shall both live.