Burn
How ironic it may seem
that you've been caught up in your own defiance
Bridges are burnt, love is faded
and you've lost your strongest alliance
When will your withered tree come into bloom?
Or will those leaves just fall about
as your words seem to do
Whatever your reason is, or rather your excuse
It will never seem to change - not even for a day
Lost in your previous world, you'll forever remain recluse.
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