Burn, burn, burn and consume anything and everything.
The smell of burning flesh, the hideous screaming, everytime I breathe,
my insides hurt horribly.
And everytime I try to recall it, everytime I look back,
my face forms a distorted smile.
But of course. Just look. This flame has shaped me.
It is my graveyard, my cradle.
―――Now, cry in hell.
Howl at the joy of birth, at the contempt of birth,
at the despair of birth!