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Have you ever felt pain? Stomach-wrenching, unrelenting, tell me Have you ever felt pain?
Dew couldn‘t stop listening.
He shouldn‘t, but he liked the rhythm.
He liked the harsh voice, spitting those lines.
He felt how his mind went back to his own pain.
He wanted it, right?
He can‘t remember.
Did he really?
Pain wandered my body, an uninvited guest Bones of a home where the devil could rest
He thought it would help him.
To connect to his maker.
To his home.
Or what he thought was his home.
The Pit, where he came from.
The Fire.
The Red.
The Hot.
But it was too hot.
Too much.
Burning through his bones.
He couldn‘t move, couldn‘t think, couldn‘t feel.
Except the pain, this all consuming pain.
Maybe when he stopped thinking.
Stopped feeling.
Maybe then the Pain would stop.
I cursed the gods, cursed my messiah Cursed my maker, I cursed all of creation There I lay, feeble and thin
He cried.
He shouted.
He cursed.
Oh, he cursed so loud and swore to take revenge.
He swore to everyone who would listen.
As above, so below.
This was not what he bargained for.
Not at all.
Satanas.
That wasn’t what he expected.
Sure, some Pain.
It’s a big change after all.
But this gut wrenching, bones cracking, all consuming, deafening pain.
NO.
Pain that splits you in two when it hits you The dark and the light are converged to one Pain that twists you, the Heavens dismiss you
The Pain crept through his body, flooded him like red hot lava.
He felt, like his body would open up, from all the burning.
Like the earth, when the volcano starts bleeding.
Breaking apart.
Creating lines on his skin, inside his skin, where the fire is shimmering through.
His heart in the middle of his broken ribcage.
Vulnerable.
For everyone to see, to take, to feast on.
For everyone to use, to break, to keep.
No help in sight.
Bright light seizure, dynamite dealer Dine at the table of the coroner, eat up
There was one moment.
He felt like it was the end.
He would have gone happily.
But there was something, someone.
A little firefly.
Was he the firefly or was he the volcano. At the beginning of the eruption.
He wasn‘t sure. All his memories hazy.
The Pain still overwhelming.
I search for peace in the belly of a beast
He really thought, being the new fire ghoul was such a good idea.
He thought, he would fit in.
Fire better suited for him.
He had a fiery nature all along.
All the others would love him for his decision, for this decision.
They needed one, a new fire one and sure the water was his element and he loved it.
Gliding through the deep blue, feeling the cold water caressing his skin.
The pressure hugging him.
Secure.
He would miss it.
Miss the silence, when he was deep down, where the light was sparse.
But the fire.
The warmth.
The destructive power.
He’s a sucker for the all consuming power of fire.
Sure water can be loud, destructive, all devouring.
But deep down, it’s just silent.
Too silent.
Running up a fever, followin' a leader Wanna be me, ha? Grass isn't greener
He really thought that fire would be easier, better, more…
Something was missing before.
He felt that he wasn’t where he should be, who he could be.
Now?
Was it really better?
He doesn’t know, doesn’t believe that it’s easy like this.
What does better mean?
Can someone tell him?
Explain it?
Sure, he is warm, can be a little heater for the others. Keep away the cold.
But what about the all consuming fire, if he isn’t reining it in.
Giving warm hugs, not a cold one like before.
But if he doesn’t stop there.
Fever, scorching, scalding, burning.
Hurting if he isn’t careful.
He doesn’t want to hurt someone.
Himself?
Who cares.
Not the Others.
Never the Others.
Couldn’t live with it.
Hard to make a stand when you crawl on your knees
He wanted to blame someone. To make someone pay for what they did to him.
They didn’t tell him THIS would happen.
He wanted to stand tall and DEMAND an explanation.
But.
Torture.
No more.
Deeper.
Cutting.
Ripping.
Breaking.
Tearing.
But flat on the ground, not even crawling, barely breathing.
Not gonna happen.
And I kneel I kneel at the altar of my own disease and I beg I begged the sky for mercy Mercy never came, I did me dirty
He was a proud one.
He thought that he would win and not lose.
But winning wasn’t in his cards.
He was so sure that it would be easy.
Kneeling?
Never him.
Not for this.
But in those moments, kneeling sounded so good, so nice, so much better.
Even on all fours.
Better than this.
A begging whisper left his lips.
Cracked
Dry
Just an open wound, even begging was too much.
And who should hear him?
Help him?
Be there for him?
There is no one.
He can’t help himself, not even himself.
Tell me how it feels to be buried while you breathe
This triggers something dark.
He felt as if he was drinking lava.
Breathing ash.
Swimming in molten stone.
Not being able to leave the place the scolding heat trapped him in.
Buried under it all.
This all consuming, burning, hot pain blinds him.
Leaves him broken.
The universe shrinks and the planets combust
Then it’s over, right.
Then there is nothing left.
Right after, he felt small and damaged.
Not whole.
Again.
Done with it all.
If the world ended, right there, he wouldn’t have cared.
If the planets would disappear, he wouldn’t be needed.
He could let go.
Finally.
But he’s still needed.
Right?
Is he?
Gears are turning, future stays uncertain
He’s coming back.
Leaving his mind, his memories.
Seeing the scorch marks around him.
A chuckle leaves his lips. Not cracked, just a little dry. Yeah, not really reining it in.
Lines appearing on his skin, just little ones, fire shimmering through.
Blood not boiling yet, just simmering.
But when he’s not reining it in…
He really shouldn’t listen to this song.
Shouldn’t visit this place in his mind.
But if he’s honest, he needs to feel a sliver, a ghost of the pain.
To stay sane.
To feel normal.
To want to be good.
Present.
Alive.
All this heat meeting the water.
Did you ever see how much power there is, when lava meets water?
You don’t want that from him.
For him.
You want him in a little bit of Pain.
Maybe if he combines the Silent, the Heat and the Pain.
He can stay alert, present, awake.
Stones and sticks, boy, pain is a gift
The pain helps him to remember.
Helps him to come back.
To not let go.
To be grateful.
To not explode.
To just be him.
Now the Fire one.
Still the Water one.