The Write Place

In haughty garments was he dressed
That louder his greatness would be professed
In feigned glorious stride
Walks the vice known as Pride
“I am why you take the fruit
A fruit that burns your tongue
Drawing you to ill repute
To anger when the day is done
I am why you lift yourself on high
I am what brings you low
I am why each day you die
Whose name you fully know
I will be like the most high
Chant my sovereign battle cry
In greatness do I gloat
For others success I have disdain
In wisdom on your heart I wrote
Never will my glory wain
See the greatness which came before
Why the works of others you abhor
I must be greater still
I will shape all by the power of my will
Let others rot, fester, burn
It will never be my turn
There is no God like me, me alone
Nor shall be ever after
For I will be as the sun
I the great and living one
Humility I will claim
Only to further my name
It’s only pride you see
If you really are not great as me
I will be my own great help, though help I never need
Never was I bonded, but by pride am I freed
I am owed your worship
I am owed your praise
Receive my Godly gaze
The perfecter of all things
I rise on eagles wings
For I never need to change
Imperfection is foreign and strange
Dwell in my house
I the abusive spouse
I am Pride, now bow the knee
Before the greatness that is me"