But a tool...

What is one but a tool to fate
The fiend is but a means of something working out
Just controlled by the palatte of defeat
The one who will not escape
The one that is but a part of the failure
Pathetically walking on, bobbing with thy strings

Nothing but the callous factor of a marred tradition
Foolishness is the hobgoblin's deviltry
Gabbed up by strings thinner than vision
By the eyes that can see and what they will do
Such is the design of the rack

From the box there is but a simple bit of malice 
But you are but a tool.