We are who we are. So many reasons, causes.
They will burn the prophet.
So much pain and loneliness. So much good too, but I don't want to see it. Do I like pain?
I wish I could one day say that without fear. "So what?"
My body is tired and weak. My search for love is in vain. To die. To die I wish.
What was the point of this burden called life...no point, no purpose.
Oh, the magic of silence I forgot. A soothing balm. I'll try that.
Jealousy and opposition is what I face. They will burn the prophet. Can I escape?
I think not.