My Spiritual Arsonist
I think it was around the time my mamma died
I tore my clothes away and cried and cried and cried
I shook the bed, convulsing, side to side
I finally drifted into tortured dreams to hide
My inner soul began to chill, no fire
My heart forgot to beat, and tired
My face grew long, my eyes looked dark and wired
My brain mulled through black thoughts that death had sired
You somehow knew, you called to dry my tears
You came to me, you have through all the years
Your comforting my heart to melt my fears
You seem to know the time agony nears
Then my spiritual arsonist , hero of my soul
The light inside rekindles, lights, and glows
The heart of me remembers songs of old
The life came back into my eyes, like gold
My Spiritual Arsonist, the hero of my soul.
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