I master of the revels I wallow in
devilry
I paint the town red with my blood
I dead-man I strut with gauche raillery
I choke on a tightly-spun tie-knot.
I devil-of-a-man I spit bloodclots
And die I die fall I fall with a loud
thud.
Her gaze, her pace, honest, set As her soul, trudging the komorebi path Ablaze and cold as the day
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