The Man Above The Boy Within

Ashes

Fire and smoke, letters to hell, I light them in the pyre,
My tears, my fears all ablaze,
I pile them up, the words,
I pour them out, the ink,
I scar the sheets with my guilts,
If I ever read them out,
My demons would even be terrified,
The world would think I'm mad,
If I ever left them in sight,
My conscience would be free,
But my personality would be questioned,
If I didn't burn them,
I'd have evidence,
Those I didn't even know myself,
Those that'd hunt me for nights unend.

Fire and smoke, letters to hell, I light them in the pyre,
I gather my smothered fears back into sight,
I store my ashes in the air,
They bear witness to the massacre I cause,
The judgement I face,
They see my blood flow from my words,
They see my terrors scream from the smoke,
They hear my cynical laughter,
The grief and the burden,
They are scalded bit by bit,
And I get consumed in their pain,
I've been scarred with their burns,
It's aesthetic to my soul,
I've become the mad arsonist at sunset,
The orange sun is my accomplice.

Fire and smoke, letters to hell, I light them in the pyre,
When the flames are down and done,
When it's dusk and about nightfall,
When my glints are out and persist no more,
When my tears are coming,
When my mind is birthing new demons,
When sacrilege has been committed on my altar,
When my ink is dry and my sheet is blank,
When there's no more sunset,
When my hopes have been duped,
And my fears are the only truthful lies,
When my reality is drawing nigh,
And my arsonist self has gone to bed,
That's when I lease my silent screams,
And my mind is set on fire itself,
It doesn't burn out,
It only leaves memories and ashes from my fears.

Kg_asare🎈