In these melancholy fields of rye,
I am on fire. 
Burning ash escape to the sky,
A fate I can only desire. 

On a journey where darkness lingers,
I traverse my path with a small light.
Cinder’s of flame around my dry fingers,
Guide me through this rite. 

I have chosen this life,
To be set ablaze by my will.
Full of strife,
All I can do is climb this hill. 

I’m almost there,
To the tinkering coal,
Where I can rid the despair,
Using the flame I control. 

The light in my realm,
I will illuminate the pathway,
By taking on the helm,
Leading others through the red decay.