smog and smoke

slipping steel up and down the
vain impulses of
crimson ruins, lying dead
in the dust of your
beaten tracks, beaten regrets;
beaten, blue and black.
burning the leftovers with
the left over jokes;
fighting demons with dragons,
the monsters with smoke.
a reckless knight in the night,
grasping burnt torches,
waving the only defense
for crippled romance.

cause when death’s the only thing
that you haven’t tried,

you’ll think it’s ok to die.

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