I know for a fact you’re Wonder Woman,
There’s no doubt of that.
But I’m surely no Superman,
No, I ‘m not your Superman.
Sorry, but I’m not.
If I was? I’m defeated.
They stripped the "super" out from "man".
Or perhaps I did.
Perhaps my fear made my grip loosened on the "super" and I regressed back to just "man".
Enemies struck me down upon a bed Kryptonite spikes.
I am impaled with Kryptonite. That terrible green glow blinds me. My strength is turning to ashes before my eyes.
Their harsh, grating laughter rings in my ears like a death knell of my power and dignity.
Sorry, but I’m not the Superman you believe I am.
Confidence is what I lack, I can’t act with tact.
I’m just a mess of a man who went too far on the edge of his own abilities.
They gave the mantle of power but my knees tremble under the weight.
I can no longer bear the burden of power.
I don't lead. I wasn't meant to be a leader.
All I can do is follow where you rule.
You try to prop me up; insist I am the hero you somehow believed me to be.
But I am not your Superman.
You don't deserved to be disappointed by someone like me.
Your faith in me wounds me like a hundred glass shards.
So go on being Wonder Woman because that is your true self.
Shine like the sun- I am only too glad and grateful I am allowed to stand under your warm rays as you radiate.
I'll be your squire, you best second, your lionheart- but not really.
You see, I'm really your hound. And hounds never betray those they serve. And hounds will die for you with nary a thought of themselves.
So I'm your hound- not noble, not majestic, not powerful- but damningly loyal when all else abandons you.
Sorry, but sorry, I am not your Superman.
Take care- it looks like the Kyptonite is coursing through my veins- everything looks so dim before my eyes.
Where are you? Can you lead me by the hand?
So your old hound can follow you still?
Sorry I'm not your Superman-
But I'll be your hound as long as you live and beyond the grave even still.
So burn bright, Wonder Woman.
Burn bright, my Amazon Queen.