I’m a wildfire and your walking into a storm.

Through it all it would be me who you adored.

Like a wilted flower desperately reaching for sunlight...

you got scorned.

Mourning, I left nothing but ash in my wake.

There’s nothing left once you lost everything at stake.

I’m gushing astral blood, can’t one see me bleed?

Or are these writings not enough to make you read.

And so I’ll take ease in the tranquility of isolation.

Maybe I’ll disappear before the face of a nation.

The bunker in my mind is safer then I once thought.

For mankind is crewel and will leave you distraught.