He gazed below, over an icy peak
Mocking the crowd underneath he deemed weak
He scornfully scoffed and gave out a sigh
With his bleak arrogance he stood there high.

A mass of misfits around a cold spire
Which seemed imbecile, filled his heart with ire
He judged them unworthy to reach high ground,
The genesis of flaw all men are bound.

"While you were atop the mountain, shouting,
You're deaf and blind to the fact we're climbing.
Your contempt for "weaklings" left us a scar.
Ironic, that we, are just like you are. "

"Beware of the height, for you may just slip.
Below your "throne" is a chasm too deep."
When fate plays tricks and life gives you the fall,
We'll be just as cold, as you were with us all.