Something’s familiar to me. They don’t have to know.

Swift and contained and caught up in life so you never can land. Your genius/beauty it hits me like dirt in the face and you can’t understand. All I have ever wanted was just to be able to stand on my own.

You save all your problems for me, they don’t have to know. We can hide in the hilltops and graves, they don’t have to know. You come here on your own with cancers and perfume. And five o’clock in the afternoon is heaven and endless.

Cursed and betrayed and forced to be strong on these hard iron wings. Wizards and scientists left on their own shouldn’t play with these things. Now we are running away and who knows what the future will bring, on our own. We are left to survive on our own.

And the mausoleums perched so high above the city can be fun in the right amount of sun. And a certain amount of technology has pricked your curiosity. And a certain amount of persecution has curiously invaded your mind. And I tried to be the hero but I screwed it all up in the end. And now we’re in the midst of this whole great global war. When five o’clock in the afternoon is heaven and endless.

They won’t come here for me. I covered up everything so carefully. They got exactly what they deserved. All I get is this guilt.

I have sacrificed everything and now I am cursed by these iron wings. But at least I am not alone. While I watch the city burn below.