Bare that hell, oh Dante's child,
as a crown. Let the flames dance
on your fingertips as you build
your kingdom on ancient ruins.
Light a cigarette and watch the
smoke rise and pollute the
heavens above, the angels
choking on their halos.
When the monsters knock
welcome them with open arms,
streched smiles, and embrace
the beast of your own.
Scream of the riots, my dear
because you are not the fallen,
you are reborn.
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 3:41 PM UTC