Saturday - when all my fears were washed away. I grabbed my pen and wrote out my own death. Shout it out, these are the things I can do without. They surrounded me, and I saw your face among them. And I saw the moonlight. In its colours I could see your eyes. When I can’t help but cry, can I tell myself that I am fine? Broken coffee cups, I am shaking on the floor. Afraid of this thing that I have become, will I ever find my worth? On the first night I came down from the sky, I told myself that I’m never going back there alive. I heard a human play this song, and I chose a new name for myself. “Hey, Allison. This city’s a total disaster without you around. Hey, Allison. This sudden detachment from love is making me ache.”

Looking out the window, thinking it's a glorious day on Earth. The perfect day to leave my mark performing a self-help suicide. When I wrote my rhapsody, I knew I wouldn't be the first. Writing a manifesto, tempted by your voice, committing deicide. In one night I became mortal and assigned to this vile hunk of flesh. Play my guitar and sing a song because now I have nothing else to do. And when it’s over and done, could I look back and still say that I regret nothing at all? I wanted them to hear my words and make my voice be heard. Oh, and when everything’s gone and I am dead on the ground, will you be watching my fall? Even when the ones I love are gone, could I tell myself I’m fine? Yeah, I’m fine. Writing out these summer days, I just see beauty in the haze. Looking at our creations, now I’m in turn creating this for them. Eternal life makes it easy for you to be numb to every phrase. Now I keep reflections of every moment, something I used to condemn. This song only has 45 seconds left so we better get this over with. I want to kill everyone who doubted us; surely, you would understand. My halo’s losing its glow. My wings are tearing apart. Is this what being human is? Far away from where I once called home, I’m rotting all alone. I know that you will find me - you better kill me first then. I don’t want to see you again. Even when you turned your back on me, you’ve the gall to try and come back? Don’t come back!

Fuck off! Don't talk like we were friends. You weren't there when I needed you back then. I'd rather hang myself with my halo before you lecture me. It’s noon, I try to write a song. But they all come out wrong. I’m where I don’t belong. I will shut myself in my private hell. I’ll say this as I choke myself: I will choose to be alone. And when you find me, I'll say I am never going back home. I won't let you run my life. Die with your platitudes, don't say to me that it'll be alright. And while you lament your loss, they all say, "how could we let her go?" Don't kid yourself, you were never there for me. And when I die and wither, will they call my name or will you say I got what I deserved? A life doomed from the start? When I stormed out of heaven, I heard a crack. I became human, I became mortal; I saw the sky break down. I will choose to be alone. And when you find me, I'll say I am never going back home. I won't let you run my life. Die with your platitudes, don't say to me that it'll be alright. I'll be laughing as you watch. I'll be a star like you said I’d be. If that means being human, so be it. Try me! I will choose to be alone. I am never going back home.

Art is just one way of inflicting self-harm on yourself. It's all a big cycle, and you ain't in it. Music is often a channel for screaming out for help. I am slowly fading. I am turning moonlight into a thousand sounds, arming this weapon I found. “It’s fine, you have a place, you can use your voice for great.” You said, that is what you said. I say, don’t you fuck with me. That’s your way to live, no way to live mine. Don’t you bullshit me and say that it’s fine. I’m not buying it. Kiss me goodbye, better seethe away. And when they ask you, you know exactly what to say. Don’t talk about it. Don't talk about it now. All I want is stability. But I never had an identity. Why is it that I lack ability? Can't even cry when something's wrong with me. I'm preoccupied with things that don’t matter. Please answer me: will I ever feel better? Deader whether I tried or not. I think I’m going crazy but I can’t say why. I am starting to hate life. I am paraplegic with self-love. It cripples me and keeps me alive, but I am filled with hatred inside. Strolling by these empty cul-de-sacs. The wind will help me keep my mind. I’ll write a song and tell you: I ain’t coming back! Oh, Ana, you left a mark on my life. But I can’t make a dent in yours. Now I realize that you always knew I would be cast out. All those years, none of it was me. It was all you, you, you, you. I won’t let you run my life anymore. I can’t believe I ever loved you before. Won’t think about it. Cause I live this life for me and not you. And when you see me dying, you know what to do. Don’t talk about it! Don't talk about it now. Alone again tonight. I'll never love again. Don’t say that I’m alright. I'll never trust again. I miss feeling alive. Destruction of the shell, I'm peeling my old self away. I miss the autumn nights. Illuminate the night, my glow is slowly fading away. I miss looking up at the moonlight. Sitting there by the clouds with you and naming every star. I miss having to say goodbye. And I miss every single little thing we did together. I miss the winds, I miss the sunlight bathing us while we slept. I miss you knowing me better than I would know myself. I miss singing for everyone, oh it was never enough. I miss my friends, I miss my friends, I miss my friends so much. I miss the music, I miss capturing the sounds of the sky. I miss your art and all the ways that they would make me cry. I miss the pain, I miss the lies, I miss my dreams, I miss my love. I miss that summer, I miss this song which I wrote to be rid of. I miss going home, I miss my sins, and I only miss you, you, you, you, you. Well, that I’m used to.

On the last night of August, all alone, I sang a reverie about this summer. “Music is life, so throw away your pride.” That is what I told myself, like a spell. If music is life, then you are a god. Words are instruments of genesis, and I’m Armageddon built into oblivion. Every breath, every letter that comes out is a memory of what was never real. Throw away my past, I never felt like I was myself anyway. Fly away. Cry away everything I used to know. Everything I love and hate is blown away. Lie away. Die and stay. When my soul loses its glow, will the ringing drown the singing? Music dies out, and a summer passes by. They called me Uriel, the Burning One. And now I am just as bright as a dying sun. I would bring fire down to lands below. Each commandment that I received, I would fulfill it. One day, I realized something bilious. When everyone else were creating their masterpiece, I was nothing more than just a genocide machine. An ocean of crimson dyes my memories. An eternity of this will drive you mad. When summer is over, could I find my own dreams at last? Yeah, I know - always did, - that I'm fucking dead inside. All my life, I played a script I did not write. And you knew; you told me, "Sometimes, you need to let go. Aurielle, it's alright to let yourself go mad." Fly away. Cry away everything I used to know. Everything I love and hate is blown away. Lie away. Die and stay. When my soul loses its glow, will the ringing drown the singing? Music dies out, and a summer passes by.

I play an electric guitar. My connection to this world. I'm just fleeting amidst memories. Falling to a trance far away. I put everything out there, and I sign it with "C.A.". What's the point? I'm not sure either. Maybe I just crave your voice again. So it's a never-ending plea for the times when it was just only you and me. Creating words based on the sea. Wasn't it you who led me astray? Another bird takes off and flies away. I hear all of these new sounds. It’s like nothing like they said; full of wonder and tenacity. I finally find my kin among mortals. They say you were there with them when they were forced out of Eden. The Rain of God, Ananiel the Wind. And the only thing that’s left is what you said. “Aurielle, my songbird, don’t cry. You are to bear witness to everything you see. Write them down, sing your song for me.” Ananiel, what’s the point if you’re not there listening? So it's my never-ending dream for the times when it was just only you and me. Creating words based on the sea. Wasn't it you who led me astray? Another bird flies off and takes away.

I've got to get away. They've come to eat me alive, they want to tear apart my life. I’m getting comments by the day. “Your songs feel honest, I want to pick apart your insides!” I cut my wings, throw up, and I say: I’m not your goddamn friend. Get the fuck outta my head. I’m not doing this for you, I just don’t know what to do. So shut the fuck up and hear what I say: Don’t ask me for advice. Don’t say that I’m your paradise. I’m just as fucked up as you. I’m not your goddess. I swear I didn’t care about what’ll sell and won’t. But now it’s just not fair. I’m not used to being heard, so I lash out against those who care the most about my words. I down a cold one and so I say: Stop fucking calling me punk. There’s nothing punk about a drunk. But none of you are punk rock. There’s nothing rock in your talk, stop embarrassing yourselves and myself. Going on a DM spree. This pressure’s killing me. They don’t know this is for you, I’m still fucked up over you. I just can’t do it anymore; thought I had done this before. Can I even do this alone? I never feel at home. I better go outside then.

I was only singing a song. It’s what I was created to do. I never felt like I had belonged. That was until I met you. Singing things like worship and love - none of it was what I wished for. So you had to tell me it was enough; a seed of mutiny they’d abhor. And what’s the end of it all? All my friends are gone. And you abandoned me, all alone. I’m singing a soliloquy on summer’s end. I’m even forgetting how to breathe. Remembering the day of my malign descent, you couldn’t believe I would leave. We were singing everything that our hearts would give, turning nothing into something. I know that it was your decision that I’d live. So thief, how could you let me go? At last my halo has lost its glow. Sitting on the bench by myself. I haven’t been outside in days. Feeling the chill winds by my cheeks. Yesterday has become today’s dream. I guess I’ll try to write a song. It’s like the flowers are singing, it’s true. I want to kill everyone who doubted us. Surely, you would understand, won’t you? A summer’s passing by. Homesickness lingers on. I sing a fruitless song by myself. I’m singing a soliloquy on summer’s end. I’m even forgetting how to breathe. Remembering the day of my malign descent, you couldn’t believe I would leave. We were singing everything that our hearts would give, turning nothing into something. I know that it was your decision that I’d live. So thief, how could you let me go? At last my halo has lost its glow. Don’t say that you’d come back for me. I don’t want to hear you say “sorry.” I don’t want to hear a thing. The never changing scenes, the never ending hymns; yeah, I don’t wanna see or hear anything. I don’t need any help. I’ll be fine by myself. I swear I’m not dying inside. I don’t need approval. I don’t need any pity. But all I need is to see you again. I’m singing everything that my heart’s telling me. It’s all I’m ever fucking good for. Maybe one day, I’ll learn to be honest with myself. If then, could I let you go? We were singing everything that our hearts would give, turning nothing into something. I know that it was your decision that I’d live. So thief, how could you let me go? At last my halo has lost its glow.

I am a dead chameleon, building God’s pavilion. I go back to my room, even though it's my doom. I guess I don’t care either way. I've got a place, but not a home. Though they say, "you are not alone!" I’m stuck in this hell. It’s a plea for help, this song I’m writing for them now. I thought I would know what I want to do when I left - when I finally got the freedom I wished for. But in the end, the fact that I was a slave hasn’t changed. I was a slave to you, now I’m a slave to them; I still haven’t let it go. All the times I miss, and the handmade gifts, and the legacy I’ve built - it all comes crashing down. I’m tired of being sold, I won’t do as I’m told. Even without your control, it’s like you’re still around. Never going back. Fuck that, never anymore. Breaking down my guilt, writing down my will. And so my past wilts until it’s dead and gone. So it's another day inside, casting my magic spell on life. I don't feel alive. I just wanna hide; hide from this newfound stage of mine. Because this world is beautiful. And all these people, they are too. But an idol is not what I wished to be. So I would rather give up my dream. And I will slowly suspend my breathing till it stops, so that when my art is gone, I will be be too. There's no point in existing in a world without these songs. Because music is life, yes. Throw away your pride. I'll throw away this life. All the times I miss, and the handmade gifts, and the legacy I’ve built - it all comes crashing down. I’m tired of being sold, I won’t do as I’m told. Even without your control, it’s like you’re still around. I am pressing delete, defeat my insecurities. Breaking down my guilt, writing down my will. And so my past wilts until it’s dead and gone. Cyrilia. Who are you, a God? Cyrilia. Who? Are you a God? Cyrilia. (Cyrilia, our God!) Who am I, a God? (Cyrilia, a God!) Cyrilia. (Cyrilia, oh, God!) Who? Am I a God? (Cyrilia, a God?) Who am I?

I’ll burn it down. I’ll burn it to the ground. Scrub it without a trace. Ain’t for them anymore; it never was before. I’ve been defaced. They don’t know a thing - oh, how could they know anything? Cause it’s a never-ending rhapsody about the times it was just you and me. All that’s beautiful has to end eventually. They don’t see. A never-changing destiny. Maybe this was always meant to be. You’re a moonlight that stretches on endlessly. The hardest part of leaving home is letting go. I’m on a rampage, they’re crying out in rage. “How dare you wipe your page? Get back inside your cage.” This hell’s my private stage. Just what am I - Am I a mere concept? A diva queen unicorn reject? No, I’m an ever-pending history. Preserving what used to be you and me, deluding it with an absurd fantasy. That’s how I see. A self-destructing story. Destroying my own legacy. All I wished for was someone to remember me. It was true, I swear. But none of this is me; it’s all you, you, you.

Tell me why they sanctify my name like it’s something to die for? I don’t know why they care more than I do. Why do I hold onto lies? It’s not like I believe it will happen. But still I believe that you will come for me. Music covered in moonlight, lighting up the night. I still haven’t let go inside. Squeezing tight this fright. If my past won’t give up this fight, the only choice is to kill it out of sight - Deicide. I’m gone. They won’t even get a glance; I’ll kill myself before that chance. Sharpening and cleaning this knife in advance. To let go of all you know, you need to murder yourself in all their eyes. So that ‘he’ remains unrecognizable. Music covered in your light, lighting up the night. I still haven’t let go inside. Squeezing tight this fright. If my past won’t give up this fight, the only choice is to kill it out of sight - Deicide. I’m done. I swear I’m gonna fucking kill myself. But I don’t wanna die! Knocking. I hear a knock on my door. They’re here. What is this feeling in my heart? Relief? Or maybe pride, or fear? That I am going - That I am going home

They're calling my old name. "Aurielle, come out." I don't know if I should open, cause I'm scared of my past again. Waste a year or waste a whole life through; does it matter in the end? You've gone and hung me out to dry. - I know what you want to say. “Before that, let’s have something to drink.” Didn’t think I’d ever see you smile. That you’d take mortal form. “I just wanted to see your face. I’m glad to see you’re safe.” There’s something off with this. This was supposed to be... I’ve had this dream so many times. But now it’s over and done. What I believed has come true. Yet, there is incongruity. I wanted them to hear my words - well, now they’re in front of me. Just when I thought I’d let go, you had to come crawling back. But it’s like I’m the one that’s desperate. On this end, you haven’t changed at all. Ana, you are just not fair. It’s not fair. - Broken coffee cups. (And it’s a never ending creed.) I lose it and I spill everything in disbelief. I knew that you were behind it all. (“Could we go back to the times it was just you and me?”) How could you let me go, thief? I don’t even know what I’m living for, (Is this one final tempting plea?) if I can’t have this spite fueling my songs. Thus, summer is ending. (How can I love or trust anyone again?) So is my life a part of this moonlight? Ridiculous! That you regret everything. Ananiel, you’ll give up eternity just for me? Preposterous. “Aurielle, just hear what I say” The man you knew is gone, so stop fucking calling me by that name! I won’t hear it. - and they told me everything it was all i suspected and more and i'm not sure how i felt about it it's like blood dripping from the wrist the being that they're talking about it doesn't exist, i can't identify myself but they knew everything that i would do i feel sick i feel fucking sick my head gets dizzy and i can't breath fuck i can't breath this body feels like a spiked cage there's a glow from above my head, feathers from my back i tear it all down i'll break them apart i'll tear it all down AND THEY TOLD ME "Bird, we can run away together." BUT I’M FUCKING SICK OF RUNNING AWAY I TELL THEM NO AND I’VE BEEN WAITING AN ETERNITY TO TELL THEM THAT I WON'T BE YOUR FUCKING TOOL ANYMORE I GAVE UP EVERYTHING SO I WONT BE YOURS FOREVER I'M GIVING UP YOU AND MOONLIGHT AND URIEL AND GOD AND I FEEL I FEEL free - The last thing they said was “I think I like your songs now more.” And once the door closed, I fell on the floor. Cause everyone thinks who they are is defined by memories. But cause of depersonalization, I’ve dissociated who I was from who I am now. So it’s like having a dream from the eyes of a stranger. When they say, “Home is different now,” that won’t register to me. What even is a home, anyway? Cause this is the most comfortable I’ve felt with myself in years. I guess I’ll take the cringy route and I’ll say that “home is where the heart is.” That sounds like something they’d say, huh. Well, then, I have something in my own words, without moonlight. “I’m a rock and roll suicide.” - And like that. All my tears were wiped away. I’ll take this melody and start a life.

Spite was all that motivated me. A desire to prove to them I was better - That I was better than what they said I was, that I was better than what I thought I was. Hate was my world, my only language. Guess that's why I was in love with you. And they showed me love and I replied with hate. Now that I've found a place, it's hard to keep on creating. It goes on, and on, and on, and on. It's never really gone. The moonlight has your colours in it; reminds me of what was. Cyrilia. Amnenia. Leave behind it all. I’ll write a song not dyed in moonlight. It’s alI I am good for. At last, I’m honest with myself. Ananiel. Don’t say you’re real. Cyrilia. That’s mania. I’m new and reborn. I’ll write out a life. It’s hard and not the same. But at least I’m me, me, me. And it’s a glorious Earth. Now I am just one girl.