What a martyr am I to give,
and receive nothing but punishment
Warmth and light, of which I bestowed,
Bestowed out of my own kind weakness
Martyr and patron saint to the small,
Weak, helpless, light-less man at my feet
Savior to the cold, shaking, mortals
Subconsciously asking for my help
Enhancing your mere existence
Caused my eternal, torture filled, demise
Forever repaid for kindness,
With a violent stabbing and pounding
No one can feel sorry for me now
This was out of my volition,
You did not ask me to intervene
Though, my graciousness should have been thanked
What cruel kind of martyr am I,
To expect you to save me from this
Waiting for a kind savior to
Restore the warmth and light I gave you
