There's a picture in my head

I will gain it when I lose

Every piece given will be a mighty win

Fighting through pangs and frailty

A crown awaits

But then I climb the pedastal

And find my staircase was descending

Each triumph a handful of dirt

Shovel myself into the hole

No where to go when you've buried yourself

Just a hand reaching out above the dust

I thought there was a golden laurel

I thought there was a shining pearl

There are only thirty rotten pieces of silver that I'd just as quickly burn

Avert your eyes from that forsaken grave