Within me it is very cold,
No heat to help warm my blood.
Is this my fault?
If so, I will have my veins cut.
There is violence to be outside,
I can feel angry eyes stare at my
creations.
People envy when I light
Maybe, because I create new fashions.
I can feel darkness in your eyes,
They want me to help get away from the
cage.
Soul never flies
You can think I am sage.