Don't be my hero. I'll only walk farther into the flames and let you get burned, unaware that I could trip and stab myself with my own words. I'd tell you not to wait for me to come back and welcome solitude as my mistress. The battle is over, have I the right to find you again? I used to paint myself with the blood on my hands. Left only with the stain, I try to patch the wound that had already scarred. Will I be brave enough to step back off the edge and let faith take me by the hand, pulling me back from the unknown that I live to dive into? All I wanted was for the flames to consume me, with ashes in the laughing wind to remember me by. They were holograms and spotlights. I run to the only place I know you'll be; a silent request for one last dance, without a promise to stay 'til midnight.