diari (no, non quelli di Sylvia Plath)

There is no destiny, just our willingness

My dear, everybody hates me here:
I shall be free, from this dust
I shall embrace my ascension
to the new world
I shall build a new era, starting with
the sticks, that once formed my heart
I shall leave you behind to persue the
bigger meaning: I shall erase religion,
starting with a old filthy rubber, that my
mother once gave me, when I was crying mad.
And I must do,
I must.
'Cause, my love, they ain't gonna let me live
And they are right here behind us
As I tell you this
They are marching
Towards my head
To hit me with a stick
And burn my flesh.

And when I'll be free
you'll start the revolution, running down the street
with your bloody hands covering your face.
You'll search for the ones that did this to me:
crying like a freak, screaming like a widow
You won't find them,
but you must resist the poison: it'll try to
get into your mind,
and once all the neighbourhood will be
in flames, you'll burn the whole country;
they'll try to lock you up: you must resist.
Fight back! Bite them!
And my blood will be mixed with theirs,
your angry eyes will look up searching for
a star they won't find.

You'll find yourself on the floor
waking up from this fever dream, but dear,
I still won't be with you:
as I shall be free.