Worry disbelieve it costly to exist with me
The light that loves these floors
Worry, disbelieve it costly to be blind to me
When I run past these doors
What kind of destroyer are you
To recognise my health
I hate no ailments on you
For me revenge requires stealth
The peace that has glee around me
Will not spread inside
There is no war within me
I hope to rest on the fire side
Inflamed feet cower from my brow
Is it a fiend or friend
White is the flying dove
Is this to be my end?
