engulfed in flames of fury,
i can feel the heat inside my heart.
the bullets and the butterflies
soar through the air on wings of hate.
they say freedom rings,
but it sounds more like a gun shot.

today is everyone’s first birthday.
when three heads split from two.
saturn returns;
the sun rises orange;
here, a virus made of vigilance.
they say it’s just the fireworks,
but it sounds more like a gunshot.

i am coming to the strangest terms
with no trust in trials or their terrors.
there’s anger coursing through my veins,
i’m pinned down against the hurling rage.
i’m screaming with this crown of pain.
they say liberty rings out,
but it sounds more like a gun shot.