~ a poem

What to do with it,
this inexplicable hubris of hate.
This fury of nature within
Find em, go to next of kin
Seek the source,
Batter it and bludgeon it with time and resource
It’s all you can see
It’s all that there is
The fight to be
Hurt the other,
Kill it kill them kill him
Killing only one
Stare into this Sun
Don’t look away
Do not run
The red madness is here to stay
Reside in this cage, pick up your gun
Never stop thinking on it
Endeavor to destroy them
Only you are fit
The enemy
Your evil
The foe
The nameless other
The shadow of oneself
Simmer and proceed to smother
A sickness, a virus
A mind enveloping in a darkness,
all-consuming starkness
You are right dammit
Teach them to err goddammit
Curse fate amidst a professed injustice
True or no, try to change fate with your grabbing, knifing fingers
This curse is twofold, reciprocal
The cause the same as effect
The motive generated in faltering rationality and ragged perspective
A formlessly shifting, clawing, spiking hand at the heart
A philosophically perditious root inside the mind compelling this righteous battle be fought
Keep digging,
keep screaming and bleeding
It must be waged and victory at all costs.
Even the soul to be wagered on the ramparts of your spite,
A purposeful prejudice fulfilled for the sake of this fight.
The weapons real and damaging
The outcomes bloody and full of pain
The reward: more of it,
A sweltering finality to this lethality – to blade’s sight and wielder alike
There is no real purpose,
there deserves no respite,
Save for blight
Afflicting on sight
Drink it and be well,
Now again, rise and give ’em hell
Stake yourself on this pillar:
Eternal
Final
Burning
Damnation
This is the thing that only destroys
A heart can fill with it like blood
it holds no mass
yet the weight certainly encumbering
no method of coping
not endurance.
not elevation.
Certainly not consummation.
Alas, only one counter, one resolution
It’s hard as hell to grasp with burning fingers,
and just about as natural as forgiving the brimstone.
But if one doesn’t find it,
be forever lost.
Seek this encounter,
Turn from Faust,
Without it, finding its opposite, what might be.
Coming out from under it, what sight, go free ~
seek Love, please.