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.