I feel like Atlas
Holding the sky up
Protecting everyone under it
When never getting any rewards or rest myself

As everyone eats and parties
I'm stuck here
Doing the hardest work in the world
While everybody else prospers off my suffering

And even as I protect everyone
People still make fun of me
They punch me
And I can't punch back because I'm too busy protecting them

People say my muscles are strengthening
But what's the point of building your muscles
When all you are going to use them for
Is holding up the sky?

My old friends have tried to help me hold the sky up
But once they realize that I won't ever be able to play games with them again
They spit on me
And walk away, leaving me with my burden once more

Alone I stand here
Day after day
Night after night
Imagining what my life would be like if I wasn't stuck here

But what is the point
Of dreaming about things that will never be?
Dreaming about pleasure and happiness
While I'm stuck in a swamp of depression and pain

So here I am, rambling on
Praying and begging Aeolus for a gust of wind
So that my overheated, sweaty body
Can be cooled off for a few seconds