Be not proud,
for it is the proud that are blind to a fall.
Be not proud,for it is a deadly thing to be.
Pride is a witch,who will lead you to believe,
that she is your fairy-god mother.
She will show you ways of making things;
"oh so right",
Methods of perfection few can aspire.
How she taunts.
How she beguiles.
How she deceptively misleads you,
down a road of dispair.
And all attempts to remain in control are shattered.
Once you have fallen prey to her,
You have fallen, pray to her.
For she has become your god and she will own you.
She is a viper.
Lying in wait till you unwaryingly step onto her path.
Swiftly she flies,
and gently she descends.
Pasionately she kills.
In swift precise strokes she cleaves through the most noble hearts......
making definite the sorrow of good things forgotten.
In misery she revels,
in heartsorrow she dwells.
Till even the pure are left with nothing to grasp.
How easy to fall,
how easy to stumble,
how easy to believe you are safe from a fall.
For once you have security and shurity,
you have nothing at all.
Your rock solid security is porous,
your dreadnaught conviction fallow.
And all along,
the lady pride she dances
And slowly you die
till nothing remains.
because nothing is.
All that is,
is the lady pride.
And all she is......
(To the driver of a white mercedes that skipped a red traffic light and knocked me off my motorcycle and did not stop to check if I was okay. I have no compassion for you.)