there once was a pyromaniac he lit himself on fire he should have panicked but everything was just brighter he lived from day to day yearning to add to the pyre he knew it to be easy with a touch it would spread wildfire but he was no devil he could control his desire so he lived in agony even when his need grew dire he'd never intrude unwelcome almost like a vampire but he was far too kind and reticent to trap a victim whom he would squire he scared them all away with apathy and satire he was too familiar with the anguish his fire would inspire he wanted to protect the beautiful souls from the harm of its ire he let his fire burn him to the ground leaving nothing to quench the inquire he watched as his fire ashed his wings and invisibly divine attire he let it consume him alone, entire there once was a pyromaniac he lit himself on fire he was resolutely resilient he drove himself to the pyre but in his final breath he heard no lyre he was a fool that no one could admire there once was a pyromaniac he lit himself on fire i would have held his hand together nothing could conquer us, not the world, not a fire