I am said to be majestic
That my presence is blessed
Is it though? I question it
They say I symbolise eternity
As if... that is praiseworthy
They merely fear death, thus
They project their fantasies
Upon me, my "holy" flames
They know not, nor care
That I am cursed, forever
Cursed, I say! Cursed! Cursed!
.
Each time I cry in anguish
Hoping my tears are enough
To cool the flames of my soul
As my life painfully burns
Yet, you are confused
You actually believed
That there will be beauty
To arise from my ashes
.
This is a neverending cycle
Am I still me? Is the past real?
When this happens again
Will the new "me" still be me?
The best dreams I ever have
In which I am dying, truly dying
The end, the ultimate finale
I'm tired, I wish to rest
Sing me to sleep, then leave me
If this happens, if I break this cycle
Do not feel bad for me; know this
I will finally be free, to go home
And know true bliss and peace
.