Beatrice-
he lied to you:
told you,
"you are the fuel,
the reason this inferno burns-
it is for you."
But how could fire burn
in the cold world of hell's ice?
He wrote from a dead place:
his heart,
filled with a million dead souls.
All of them judged,
just as you:
never known,
just as you:
romantisim.
-Matthew Koutzun
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