23.55
It's been three days,
The coldness of the weather,
The destruction,
Fire on my loin,
Hell flamed skies,
And oh the wicked smiles.
Seven hours have passed,
The desire to hold on,
Raging thoughts to move on,
What's your occupation, darling?
Are you still a starling?
Or is it just me daydreaming?
Minutes to midnight,
Through the depth of the light,
Running wild like a child,
Light my fuse and ignite,
The sparks of our
Fight.
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