The warmth of the summer rests in your flesh,
the gold shimmer of success like a key in the lock of your heart.
And your laughter tastes of victory,
they can\'t help but stare at the gold skin of their conquerors.
You wear crowns given, not taken.
Their is laughter spilling from your lips
as ichor drains from your skin.
All the sorrows in your bones are forgotten
and you scream divine.
The church does not like your immortality.
You wear diamonds on your skin and in your teeth,
your enemies are beheaded with a crystal sword.
Nothing is sharper than your diamond tongue,
you took to divinity like Icarus took to the sky-
and you know the fall will be just as sweet.
The air you breathe is the same air that fuels forest fires,
inside of you, your cells ignite.
You are fire and flame and god and divine.
How could you have ever thought you were human?