Pompous Lines by an Outwardly Brazen Poet

If the sin of pride is my condign curse; then I own it, and I can do no worse. If the world disdains me, not saying why; then I can stand it, though I want to die. Alone for good, now and for evermore, as souls come, to never enter my door. Condemned by my sins, I'm kept from the light; without grace, I live bereft of God's sight. (Too bad if some don't recognize my genius; but know, great souls believe in their greatness: so damn this world if I'm cursed any longer! For the burden of brilliance makes me stronger.)