Lead is a soft and malleable metal, which is regarded as a heavy metal and poor metal. This toxic metal represents impurities, of the metals as well as the humans and its burning is metaphoric with cleansing and removal of imperfections.

White is for the memories,

Green is for the endless skies,

Red is for the pretty girls,

Blue is for the gaze of whom,

Has constrained me for these long gone years.

They're waiting by the abandoned gates,

They're juvenille as always,

The gaze has tucked me back again,

I'm still constrained, still lost as always..

"What should I do? What should I say?"

A scaredy cat asks me,

Its face of white porcelain.

I stare as I botch it up...

The gates have pretty leaden statues,

They remind me of long gone gods.

I peek as I start to wail...

The time is up..

So hastely...

I stop and look....

The warden's tacid....

Long blue gaze.....

Finally approaching mine..

"It's not your fault,

It's just that,

I subcounciously made something,

Something that's not supposed to be there.

Yet here you are...

You are..

A mental personification,

Of someone,

Who's not supposed to be here,

Who has no rights to this realm,

Of long distant gargantuan gods.

I'm sorry..

This ending's bitter,

But remember this..

You are..

Who you are."

I lose the finesse touch,

As strings have all hurled out,

And the gaze finally turns amber,

Like the autumn chrysanthemums..

I gaze in awe,

As I kneel like a fetus,

So incapable.. I break apart,

So useless... like a red porcelain,

Such a nothing.. I finally sob in pain..

Why are you doing this.. I'm still constrained, Still lost as always..

No one has to suffer.. But it's okay,

Just get out.. It's not my thoughts,

I'm not my thoughts.

"Oh Grandma.."

It's a long tacit scream,

Unoriginal and full of cracks,

Of empty vessels,

Losing their intelligence.

But I'm grateful..

So greateful at this long sad journey,

So glad that I could learn so much,

So happy at the new found friends,

So saddened that the leaden warden,

Is stranded on this wretched realm,

Full of gazing vessels.

But here we are,

The long heroic journey has turned out to be,

A long wretched playground.