This vengeance of feeble consciousness
engulfed in the wild roar of mortality’s ocean
battling hopelessly with madmen’s zest
diseased with the poison of its own vitality
secretly conjuring fantasies for eternity
dripping down the spine of Illusion herself
drowning in pleasure and soaring in pain
nurtured by the stings of challenge
greatest when forgetful of itself
crippled by the burden of its weight –
the threshold of all realities
and because, weak and coward,
possesses doom in its very heart
abandoning the mellow horizon of non-existence
therefore, I am.