It was he who lost touch with reality

Nobody else could make it so

It was he of the impossible dreams

Grabbing all that was not his to take

Unashamed that a man can stoop so low

That man, they all thought they knew so well,

Turned cold and hard, aloof

Cruel tongue spewing blow on blow

Raging, blaming all but himself

Unable to face the truth

A mind gone far beyond the pale

His own ideals drive him to ruin

Overstretched, immersed in greed

While fear of failure, vastly overgrown

Tears his very soul from within

Til finally, without intuit or concern

He falls into pride’s personal hell

Destroyed, by his own injurious stance

Lost to uncontrollable egotism

The man, dispelled, nought but a shell.