Tonight.

Tonight. Look at myself falling. 

I see my own eyes praying and 

Silently whispering for the hope.

"What's wrong?"she asked. Nothing.

Nothing really is. 

While the butterflies were too sick to fly, 

I'm going to take my medicine. To die.

Escaping the fate.

Escaping the doors,

I'm going to run

Through the flames and the floors...

I'm going to burn you.

Then - myself. 

Our sons and the family. 

They're all left in one memory.

Kill it.