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Kamski Mar 2020
There is a fire in you
Which lights the whole world
And burns to such degree
Even that of hell became candlelight.
March 19, 2020
Kamski Mar 2020
You are chaos
In the heart of stillness,
I want to be part of your soul
And so chaos I become.
March 19, 2020
Kamski Mar 2020
Life haunts me tonight,
Even Death could not steal me to sleep
Wet blurs are my weary sight,
Underwater— til morning I am in deep.
March 19, 2020
Kamski Mar 2020
The fleeting moments
Where we both converge as one,
I could not go as high as we’re meant
For I be burned if I reach too close to the sun.
March 19, 2020
Kamski Mar 2020
I fall into my knees beneath your feet—
What mistake I shall keep in my book,
One which your letters weather every sheet
And your words even divine eyes be afraid to look.
March 19, 2020
Kamski Mar 2020
They that seek the pollen of the night,
The moon of which they blame for the end of days,
Let the shades be pleasure of the sight,
And heaven be found in the colourless rays.
March 19, 2020
Kamski Mar 2020
Dawn is leaping to us but we want it creeping
Tip the poison bottles— be quick, we are chasing!
Don’t want it to end, can’t we go back from the dusk?
Where our visions are fogging with blissful purples?

How this could be a mountain memory,
How this could be an anxious scenery,
Wrap your arms around me when we both scream
The noise that only two of us can hear.

It’s dreading to feel the slap of time on our cheek,
But it’s the wind of the night that we are here for,
So let me feel your joyful teeth around my neck
While we slur our laughters and be washed down the sink.

We’re awake, can you feel the blood pumping?
Like the beat of thunder and rise of sun,
Don’t you dare don the shimmering armour,
Because our feet tread on the yellow road.

Be warmed as we raise our swords to revolution—
This leads to liberty of our own illusion
Let’s not tell for tomorrow, there’s money to pay,
Let the hooves of horses run wild; we’ll be our queens.

Do you see our figures in dark night sky?
As we’re hanging on the edge of the cliff?
With every red drink is a rush in me;
With every smell of your night is a spree.

My match stick is blazed, swallowing flames of bonfire,
The wind is chill on our skin, I flinch on your sigh,
Can we not see this moment in a picture frame?
Let us convince ourselves that this is every night.
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