We bear the scars of fires

long burned out

And pray to ignite our own

to cast revenge upon the first

Want is not of the most natural, always
And in line with the intended almost never found
Beneath the trees or above the sky
You'd be more in lost finding
Searching words for books
For in losing this you will surely find

Free is not always true of you
Just as you were not always in being true
With your heavy water, steel, and stone
A building soul is never built
Or in mind first being with others freed
One day you'll learn all of you is me

Such a light name and personality,
With a dark and violent past.
We see what we want to see,
The broken is what comes last.

All we see and express is violence,
Yet happy in our broken world.
We're just like the colour violet,
Mistaken for purple as just another word.