Crime of passion is where I laid myself to rest. Burning inside me lied, now the question posed: What really happened to me?
High temperatures unbearable, and only increasing. Overwhelming every soul touched, making sure
every soul destroyed. Creating a haven from the ruins left behind, this is where I have made my home. Who am I supposed to be?
Flames from the war surrounding, eyes unable to adjust, smoke becomes my vision. And yet, I know you’re not there. When were you ever?
I ask myself at night, “How am I supposed to be this person? Was I ever?”
I light the candle and begin to feel it everywhere, to see it in everyone.
Where did it all begin?