The Greats And The Uncared For

In a bit of a pickle,

quite literally,

I enjoy the riddle,

quite thoroughly.

Though this isn't the best,

it'll do 'till I get some rest.

On my tools there is rust,

In my eyes there is dust,

I will stumble and fall,

I will mumble and brawl.

Death and Destruction,

Life and Resurrection.

In meaningless sprees,

The Greats can only fall,

and The Uncared for can only brawl.