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Aug 2014
And before I extended my claws onto your hearth,
I dwelled within a secret passion: I brushed up on sneaking and marking the spot for my next apocalyptic arson
And yet I could never spout the rage that fuels my husk of a being onto your haven
Your abode stinks;
The reek of naΓ―ve youth and ***** lust at night
And yet I could never expunge the puny shred of mercy embedded on my aortic psyche
You win this round
For now,
my claws will try to cut the life you absorb from the air that pervades your hearth
Before they turn to fingers, before my wrath subsides in mortal disbelief of its own vulnerable
                                      humanity
I shall incite fresh fear and death inspired odes within me once again
οΏΌ
And on a fateful humid night,
I shall let myself perspire at the sight of infant wreckage burning with fervor and life
Your abode in flames of red and azure
And if you burn,
Apologies.
I merely hope your ashes will spark the flame bright for at least a little while
Ahh...such sweltering warmth
Sanket Shrestha
Written by
Sanket Shrestha  Kathmandu
(Kathmandu)   
921
   SPT
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