Old man, you go by many names:
You have denounced me in your refusal to distort at my will. Finally consumed by the bullying you stand firm against me, steadfast in your will – you shall not be something you are not. I applaud your gumption, you deserve this triumph for you have rendered me weak – a pawn in your game, the zero at your left, the widowed soul yearning for relief and none foreseen to come. How long is your punishment? If you are fair and calculating, if you seek justice in the fashion of “eye for an eye”, then I am a fearful servant counting on my hands, on my feet, on the walls, and in my memories for the very moments when I took pleasure in your disfigurement. Surely I have insufficient memory to defend my case, thus I look into the abyss at the uncountable in my debilitating mystery.
How you impress me with your guile – allow me enough air to gasp so that I may not perish. Shall I applaud the artist you are? Allow me enough to believe in life after retribution. Manipulator – you position me in such a way that I may see you in admiration. How is it that I might love your craftiness; I tell you, it is through which I hate you that I too can smile at your pernicious skill. You torment me in giving me the pleasure of exasperation and fury – I crave it and indulge for the few seconds I can devour it only to be met with more of you at the end of my plate. Overlord. Consume yet more of me, I am an addict in your grasp, unsure of the right and the wrong, blind to the next step in this journey.
I have not the audacity to beg leniency – I have only to ask: To whom must I pray? In which direction must I bow to gain your favor?