Despite astonishing personal achievements

They have a taste for something much richer

Their unremitting ambition can never be satisfied

They distastrously misjudged their own blood

We are not like them

And so, they percieve us as simple, rebel souls

What they can't see

What they refuse to see

Is that we try

Our successes outmeasure theirs in every aspect

And yet, we are nothing to them

Despite being condemned to a life of Hell

We have managed to avoid many of the worlds implications

We hold genuine hands of heroism

Both in the scale of our effects

And in the boldness and greatness in which it has been inspired

And now, we can allow the reality of the past

To slip through our fingers like sand

And pick up the lessons from the present

And the promise of love for tomorrow's rainy day

We can live on

Without them