In pain doth come the world's reward,
toil and labor for all.
Why should I suffer for this meager life?
To whom doth I call?
"'Tis not for me to decide," they say.
"Nor for thee to question."
I smirk with a snort and turn away,
"Ye shall see, I'll have my day.
I'll rise up and take what my pain has paid,
And all of you shall I lay low.
With ye turned face down in the snow,
I'll look upon your body and state:
I'm not finished, you just wait..."