I`ve met that point in my life. Want came to need. Burn these fields of corn, that surround. My harvest gone at the price of maturity. But these remains I`ve left to rot will be resurrected again and again by the next generation of children who want to change minds with the stain on hand. But, it`s deeper than this, I`m not the only one who sees, it lies in diversity; acceptance to a degree, only to a degree. The fire that once occupied my eyes has spread to destroy this world I have grown. You have nothing new to scream beyond your fields and not a second of patience to learn from me the same. This time I harvest the crops of my past. As far as the demigods are concerned, I`ve sold myself out just the same. I`ve burned bridges to feign brothers. Brothers of nothing more than a simple label. So now, I`m in control after all, for myself I prove I still am. But within these fields, they`ll say I never was
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