You are a crippling master.
You demand too much of me.
Every night you make me preform rituals to you.
You demand I position myself this way, and then you command me to reposition that way.
Never are you pleased.
You need the light to be a certain way. It can not be too bright for you, oh Great One.
You demand of me so much--too much.
And when I do not fulfill your demands, you withhold from me a thing most vital--my sleep.
Finally, I'll be fed up, and I will vow to outlast you, and you give me a false hope.
But soon thereafter, you giveth to me what you withheld,
Thus devastating me.