My spirit is lonesome and unappreciated.
Uncountable happenings can be related.
The world didn't relate to my efforts, now my pridicaments.
I'm the one playing my sounds and dancing on my own.
Unappreciation and loneliness indulges me to groan;
I want myself clone!

I need no counsel, that's the motive i have deviated myself.
I have already gone through millions of motivations and counsels.
Of Which at every close I rebrand myself to be a relentless elf.
But as evermore these are the stuffs I found on my shelf;
I am considered a nugatory.
The better I strive to interact: the harder the world ignores me like an invisible fairy.
The greater and more magical I do things to cart it's attention and focus towards me:
The stronger it waves me down and see that my efforts betray me.
The worthier I serve to see my perspiration gains recognition:
The lambastinly and constantly the world sentence my spirit into a pit of omission.
The more purer I try to be guiltless of crimes and negative actions:
The more constantly they bullet me with persecutions and allegations.
The more steadfast I do things to be commended for once:
The more expanded it ruthlessly rebukes and reprimands me of flaws and claws.
The ferociously I pounce to achieve:
The furiously it tracks hurdles on my way to see me fall short of my motive.

These incitations have seen me in ultimate loneliness.
I lean against my recliner in a dark solitary room.
Swimming on my pains and drowning on my sorrows.
Sorrows of which I never aspired for looms.
I'm now left unappreciated and lonely.