Bathing in a candle wick's hollow,
A blanket of eternal fire pulled tightly to my throat.
Little boy that was so scared,
Little man that was so frail,
Single celled Gemini that I call myself,
Now stands in those shoes,
Different feet though, above a different trunk,
Head over heels into my self imposed holocaust.
Justice has no use in this new world,
I built it with these two hands (I built me with those two hands)
I am my own funeral pyre, the inferno that brings forth parental discipline,
Destroying the gears in the greater machine,
Stolen flame of order feels so chilled in my hand,
Like these alien eyes that stare from the mirror.
I know you, newcomer. 
You can't handle me-- you can't control me, don't even try.
I warned you, rusty, types like me don't have the sense to die.
Enjoy your unmarked grave, fool to venture a guess.
Sleep well, sweet child of my antediluvian hands.
Fabrication of a mind that I once had.
The road lies before me-- forked tongue and all.
No time for whining, not ever again. Not in this phoenix's un-life.
If I'm to be both Prometheus and Hephaestus, might as well play Ares too.
No where to hide from this man made war that refuses to breathe,
No where to run from the penance I have yet to gain.
Have hell will travel, right to your door.
Say hello, I'll say goodbye, 
cut your strings you pitiful things.
Sun of my past self, father of yours.
I'm your Badguy.