From misty mountains high and dry,
Where fire falling from the sky
Chokes the things to be;
Chokes the sky,
Chokes the sea,
And chokes what’s inside of me.
The fire is what they made me bring
Among the world of joyful things.
I, the crippled scapegoat.
They made me lie.
They made them cry.
Ends of the innocent, in stone they wrote.
Deserting that side,
For their hideous hide,
My spirit did not need.
To a glorious form,
And glorious norms,
And a world devoid of greed.
To fight the fire all my will I lent.
And yet they questioned my intent -
For saving I was who?
I shed a tear,
I sighed a scream,
“Now I’m one of you”.
Forsaken, marred, a dream left scarred,
And an accusation obscene.
What centers my life is broken down,
To splinters and embers;
Trampled my core has been.
Treasure it sees pleasure it seeks
In destroying all I had ever seen.
My arms and will is all I have
To help myself go free.
My arms it rips,
My will it kills.
And gloats on my tragedy.
And yet I plummet from the sky,
An eternal bond I untie
To mount the mighty beast.
To it I bind,
To lead my kind.
To a brighter day.
There was yesterday and there is today,
And I wish today was gone.
For today I become,
Become a man,
Who wears his crown of thorns.
With heart unstirred and spirit so clean,
The deity did on my side lean.
And an end to the fire it brings.
I end this day with gleeful joy,
For I’m the victor of my Troy,
And the God of small things.
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