I see you have pride, yes, but do you have those tools,
To take it like you love it, beaten down yes, granted,
But it is not your opponent but your ego that’s the fool,
When you have such ignorance to shun purposed rules.
A penny for naught is the same as the tired old game,
Conning yourself to declare the crown of the master,
I see the fire burning, but cannot decipher those flames,
You cannot design the interior in gold without the frame.
Grab that shield and armor, put down that weary old sword,
It was sharpened by a dream, one you never awaken from,
I cannot read you right, I get confused and really quite bored,
For in this arena it is not ‘proper’ but comprehension that is the lord.