Oh, cruel defeat, you snatch away pride,
As victory slips from my grasp like rain,
And leaves me standing with tears in my eyes,
You mock my struggles, making me feel vain.

You leave me broken, without any light,
I hate your touch, and it makes me boil-brained,
Your cold, bitter sting makes me want to fight,
My efforts defeated, with no bit gained.

My dreams, once soaring high, now lie in dust,
You hell-hated thief who stole all my luck.
Leaving me cold, you have lost all my trust,
Making my heart feel betrayed and obstruct.

Although you triumph, know I shall soon rise,
And fight again with fire bright in my eyes.