With spirit ablaze, To tread, where everyone conspire My truth, a flame held higher, Yet branded still a liar. This path, where doubts transpire, To reach what hearts desire. As in ages of old time's fire, Worth on the pyre, a maiden's trial dire. The heart's own fire, just water to the pyre, Yet the world deems us of less significance, Not much of a crier if you keep your distance, We've never needed rescue, if the problem wasn't you.