My inner fire has been blazing - reducing my soul to ashes over and over again without the slightest hint of mercy.
Burn. Burn. Burning.
It's not that I want to die - is it? I can't be so ready to completely collapse. How can I be so perfectly content with this blaze inside of me?
I do not have any excuse to give you for the reason I'm always inhaling the cold and exhaling the heat. A warmth so weak inside you yet burning at a million degrees within me.
How dare I set the world on fire just to watch it burn down. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, I'm reducing myself to bones.
After it's done, burning, I will be numb. Burnt. Rejected by a world so cold.
Only I am the red amoungst the black. Standing apart. Set against a dying night, I'm radiating.
These burning thoughts are destroying me, setting my insides on fire for fun. And without a hint of smoke to fill the breezed air it's showing no signs of surrender.
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