Three thousand score and forty years ago,
Stood a city wrought in flames,
The heat of desire and the light of ambition,
Fuelled a glow from its highest spires.
Yet this fire was extinguished,
By that from which it was created,
A city that burned eternally,
Was consumed in itself.
Now I stand on the ruins,
That self-destruction did create,
I do nothing but imagine,
That I will suffer the same fate.
From ashes to ashes,
Dust turns to dust,
I have served my time here,
My fire must be put out,
Before I go, I look to the heavens,
A final request to the celestial,
So my soul may never tarnish,
If I must go, I will go down in flames