Misery, step off your pedestal and
Bow to me. I know you not as my king.
I shall not stoop at all to kiss your hand
Or press my lips against your wicked ring.
Oh Misery, leave your supposed throne
And observe it now as it burns to ash.
No praises sung to a monarch unknown
Any honor proclaimed would be yours last.
Misery, thrust your crown into the dust
And witness the ultimate disrespect.
I spit at it now, and your name I cursed
For I am free from your immoral debt.
Mis'ry, how vain you make yourself to be
If you shall think I'd subject to thee.
March 12, 2007