Merrily, I laid the very crown of my life before you, 

But you trampled on it and made sure it bled too. 

My rainbow kept painting your canvas, relentlessly, 

While you ripped my sky apart, discarding the flakes entirely, 

You were the moon of my night; believed that was everything, 

Oh, there were stars too, holding me up with their very being. 

Yes! It was me who let you ragged my embers but not anymore! 

For their flaring shades are not mine alone, but my stars' core. 

It's time for me to reclaim the erudition of my camelia wings—

Those you crippled, but never expected them to still be my kings. 

Swear! You'll see my blades tearing the very fabric of your dunce life, 

If you ever dared to touch the wind of my stars—the reason for my strife.