You felt your being was crushed
By their gaze, by their says
Being beneath them, you hate
Them being above, you abhor
What should you do
To remove the stain in you

It's easy
Don't place yourself below
Don't raise your head to see
They are but a stain
Bleach them away
And wear that pride

'Cause only in death
Should you put yourself down.

Someone has thrown another coal,
It asked me to burn my worst
Bewitched by illusion
Like the little match girl—
But isn't that the dream I seek
To dive into the hole like Alice did
So was me being awake
Really the best that it could be;
Can't I stay here burning
Until the sun I became?

A flower does not seek why it bloomed
Nor does it ask why its petals are blue;
Time under the clear sky is alive,
Weathering storms can mean something
Though they're all likely nothing
To the aster who doesn't have a midlife.

If my desire of immortality
Was not delivered on Tyche's oak desk
And my neck accepted Death's penalty,
Make my funeral transient and modest.

Do not dump me bunch of would-wilt flowers
Nor weep with salty tears upon my earth
Instead scatter me some seeds of asters
For when they blossom it is my rebirth.

Though if God of Wishes grant me this dream,
Erase my name from your reminiscence
As I have ventured out this weary realm—
I'm with the stars flaunting my omniscience.

Either way I'll try to end it laughing,
A fitting mood for my new beginning.

This moment is just a dream,
An illusion of a greater being
And once the cold death
Gave us it's warm embrace
We will fall into silence
As we wake up to see the reality.

If so, then why plague your mind with worry?
If this is just a dream, then why are you experiencing it in tragedy
When you can easily make it into comedy.

Burning desire for a flesh
Tear it apart,
Pound them hard;
Nether are screaming—
Another angel to consume!
The master is not in my skull
It is inside my pants.

O my heart is ill
It does not cough
But it does love