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Incineration

Wild Roses Of Winter

Flying to the Sun with Icarus's wings
I come undone in a pendulum swing
Feathers scorch and limbs start stalling
As the sirens sing they see me falling

Incinerated alive
Incinerated alive

These reveries self-combust
Burn to cinders, turn to dust
And a portrait caught in flames
Will be torched in its frames

Covered in blood and orchids
Enshrouded by scars
If I take my charred wings
Could I fly to Mars?