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I stand before the great enemy
That cannot be beat or be fathomed
Not humbled, not kneeling down
But surrendering, just the same

To have led a life of
Great and horrible deeds
And yet subtly flawed
Pride escapes my thought

For it is for the destitute
And the very poor alike
There was just pain
And work to be done

Utterly unable to transcend
The limits set by the coarsest
And the finest of materials
The thought-matter of man

The depth of being
Lies not in our power
But in the power of
Satan in man

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