These days under the haze

Of dragons breath

Electric, magnetic effect

Oh the consolations

Of ripest flesh

And I confess

I kill to eat

And revel in death

As he stalks my steps

As I tip-toe through the madness

Of the burnt ones

With black lungs

Broken beyond repair

And don’t for a second think

That the chips fall fair

So by all means

Reel me in

Make your problems my own

Because I am Atlas

The weight of the world

Perched effortlessly on my shoulders

And nothing much gets to me

That doesn’t concern

My family or my dream

To someday be free

And I’m quietly confident

That my ship is coming in

On time, in tune, on point

And I can say I saw hell

But it didn’t bite

I won the war

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