Stood up great, the candied glass of life,
Chirking up in faux pride of vernal wine.
Brimmed with gloat, no ail no grief;
All globe it induced, to bid as MINE.
Befogged in vapors of ego, enthroned so high;
Enticed the storm and descended the fall.
Tattered bitingly to footing in an awful sigh,
Bussed its end upon kismet’s surly call.
Erstwhile, a paradigm of glinting shine,
Threw off its splendor to the fatal night.
Knelt in hope for the stars to align.
Battered and bankrupted; lost the fight.
Reposed with a damped pride, naught remain;
Befriended the ground and feared the height.
Prayed for humility, its collapsed pieces so fine;
Freed is the ego, the glass is clear and al-right!