It starts with a lonely blackness,
Icey and empty;
A tightening noose:
My heart’s sentry.
My glance darts away
From its chilling eyes.
But I’ve glimpsed its true frame:
It is Hatred’s guise.
Yet Hatred holds my hand so true,
While I could never count on you.
As time goes on I gasp and choke
From resentful persecution.
Smoke and turmoil evoked,
Confusing my constitution.
Then finally stills the riot
As I rest my head down.
It whispers in the quiet:
I wear Indignation’s false crown.
Silence you! I shall rather be flayed,
Then of my crown be depraved!
As I age I carry on my shoulders
A lead weight I can’t bear.
Punitive boulders
That the world has put there.
When I stop for a breath
A finger is pointed at me:
It is your own Regret
That bolts you to misery.
No, I cannot, I refuse to believe,
That I hold the answer to my own relief.
I shrivel and shake;
It is everyone’s fault.
My composition is quaked,
So I rest in my vault.
In this safe prison
A guard fortifies me.
You see Self-pity has risen
And thrown out the key.
Lock them all out and keep them away,
Set fire to them if they dare stay!
My final hour my heart in my throat
As I fall through the sky in dismay.
I think to myself I did hear them gloat
As they came and jerked out my dais.
Their betrayal so stings,
But they pushed me to fly.
Self-depracation clipped my wings,
And now I shall die.
At last I fall with one companion,
Hatred was my loyal lanyard.
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