In the darkest passageway of demonic shadow,
I raise up my face to them.
Defiant in the face of no hope;
insubordinant in the line of dominance and decay;
imcompetant in a rein of unintelligence.
Hail pours down on the cobblestones
beneath my bare feet….
and unclothed I venture on.
Rising above their greatest powers…
they will condemn me to death.
Of this I am completely sure.
But I will bear the executioner with head held high;
in this scandal of a Victorian England…
I am lower than a brothel woman to them.
I deserve no mercy for my sin…
and they will make me pay.
Pay for the single abomination that I am.
Just a worthless waste of body,
put on this earth to serve others.
Others unlike me… the lucky ones.
But still I rise from the ashes of despair.
And I show NO remorse for what I have done.
I rise above them all.. the cowards… the men of power;
the women of the nobility
that hold themselves far above me.
For this misfortune that I bear has not been bestowed upon them.
And though no one sees me for who I am…
rather what… I still try to venture forth into their midst.
As an equal…
No longer will I remain stoic.
No longer will I allow this tyranny of a higher class,
to burden the people like me.
A revolution will take place and meaningless as I seem to be…
I will lead the rebels.
And we will destroy what they have done…
what they have caused us to become.