Calm and collected...
Played upon by evil fingers.
Burned to the end of death, I begin to live.
Reborn from the darkest setting of ash, I am starting to once again breathe.
I was discarded by the world and thought as worthless.
I used to want to be good enough for them...
...Then maybe I wouldn't have felt so alone.
My mouth is parched, the priest never gave me the healing water...
...But to touch the rim of that sacred bowl would be infinite death in the depthless pits of hell.
I was plagued by every second's thought that I was beneath them...
...Until I came to realize that I am not alone.
Every day now, I see mankind in all its majestic stupor.
False faces are only masks of the reality hidden in the crevices of each person's soul.
Every scar is purposefully displayed for others to see...so that we may gain the drama that our human bodies crave.
Does anyone else see this the same as I?
Do we all have to be reborn from the fiery embers of darkness in order for our eyes to properly work?
If you never die to the Light...then needles will be stuck through your staring eyes.
Put me in a cage if you can.
The needles are for your benefit. A moment's pain for a lifetime's truth. I consider this a worthy price, even as I felt the fluids of my own eyes trickling down my cheek. The staggering pain was nothing compared to the murderous anguish of the searing world's mass stupidity.
See me now, composing an angelic song...so beautiful.
The permanence of an instrument of darkness in my tune...
...Sing with me as I am strummed by my protector.
Such sweet evanescent bliss...
