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The Streets are on Fire.

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Anomalous as I am, I have myself figured out. Anonymous and pretend, I feel so devout. As confident as I am, I am filled with doubts. My world is an asylum, it is filled with shouts. The screams pierce through the walls that I have built. They fill me with an insurmountable guilt. Even after we lost touch, and my foundation had been rebuilt. I am still a weed, that has just begun to wilt. Incandescent as I was, I gave off so much light. I spit my venom in your face, so hostile and full of spite. Bittersweet was the day, when I had finally won the fight. Much to your contrite, a new fire I had ignited. Your eyes spelt contrite, while mine were delighted. To explore the opportunity that I now had in store. Oh what a shame, now that it is you that I abhor. And it's you that I implore, much to your bliss. Whenever I feel pain, it is reminiscent of your kiss. I cough and I wheeze, as I sit and I hiss. And question how I ended up in this abyss. Lost in a maze, confused and dazed. I'm no longer surprised that my world is ablaze. The streets are on fire, the walls are in disarray. You cut like barbed wire, you are my decay.

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