Chapter 8 : Like a moth drawn to a flame

Like a moth drawn to a fla(me),

what will I be(come).

Set my mind afl(utter)

the words that slap me a(wake),

it's not a funeral but I'm al(ready)

de(cease)d.

Dying on the in(side)

with the (right)eous,

there is no (just)ice

an empty (feel)ing.

my world col(lapse)

into depths obs(cure),

there is (n(o)ne)

just a h(eat).

Me a(live)

like a moth drawn to a fl(âme).