We live in hell
In an eternal, bottomless fire hole
With pitchforks made of our own hands
weaved from thistles and adorned
with razor blade shrapnels
We live in burning, constantly
in rings of fire and of smokes
We burn the land's treasure
to fuel our days
These days we burn,
to ash in calendar corners and reminders
We throw it all away
but we mostly burn ourselves
and we burn love
only to prove, we, humans
are stronger than emotions
We burn to dust,
then try to walk away from the blaze.
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