Scorched

And the masks fall at once.
They shatter in fragility.
A dagger proudly on display
Sits protruding from my back.

The wound can be cleansed.
It can be stitched and dressed.
The muscle underneath will ache
With a betrayal it can't forget.

If my betrayers seek to repent,
Or even stay steadfast in my blood;
It matters little to me now
All I want is the world to burn.

To see the green trees I love
Stripped to charred soot and ruin.
To set myself ablaze in hurt,
And rain reborn into the ashes.

I knew they would turn, conspire
As the voices whispered it so.
I'm more anguished by the small fact
That I still trusted them at all.