My wrath has developed into something that burns itself but also emits heat, like the sun.
They say anger is the result of loss of control; I could not be any angrier.
An eternal life, infinite lives, or returning to childhood are not my wishes anymore. In fact, they would be the ultimate punishment.
To be a child again, knowing the least and having to endure the most. Or to live this empty life infinitely, pushing a rock to the top of a mountain, watching it fall, and pushing it back again.
I wish to be devoured by the earth in one second. To be silent and to silence my senses. To dissolve my atoms into the soil, and to serve some purpose silently and mindlessly. I would never die, but I would never truly live.