poor boy. you're just the
stupid one, ruled by your rage
your fight, your fists. you

all the fearers in
this blood-splattered world, no friends
(save your sister, pain.)

wrath and pain, oh my
you do make the pair. i'm more
than a bit afraid.

goodbye, boy of fire
i'll run from you now, goodbye
there's no friend in you

hello, your one fear
pet peeve—fatal flaw—nightmare
you know you're not a

friend. dear boy, young knight
—just a soldier, a stoic
statue child—. poor boy

they hate you, they fear
you, and there's nothing you can
do for it. unless

you try to change, my
dear—but it's so hard to fix
what you didn't choose

you'll growl and they'll flee
that's just the way it's always
been, my poor darling

your bloody hellfire
burning alive in your eyes
while you're dead, my child

i can't cry for you
all these legs can do is run
—so sorry my child—

—none of us chose us either—