To whom do I write about life's blight?
Is it for you, happenstance that you've read?
It is for myself, trying to overcome my inner dread
On myself I have placed these chains, afraid to let myself sore
I can't take it, I'm done, these shackles must be no more
My heart pounds rapidly with anticipation
I'll stand up proud and announce myself before a nation
If death becomes me then I shall languish no more
Truly it is better than being Suffering's personal whore
I'll follow the path of Apollo and bring myself to the sun
The burns are as nothing, taking a chance to have some fun
Seek not to return me to a life bound by shackle and chain
No longer will I live a life entrenched in pain