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A poem I wrote about vengeance, hatred and misery. Rated for less-than-jovial topics and implied suicide.
An eternal flame always flickering in your heart [whether you know it or not], just waiting to be allowed to burn. It's been there forever, the most basic of human instincts.
Life's gasoline. We run on it, but, most importantly, it's the thing that sparks the flame and turns it to fire.
That passionate, destructive blackness hiding in the back of your brain. It's the very thing that turns our thoughts dark, taking us over and mixing with the revenge, causing a BOOM.
After we realize what our furious, primitive thirst for avengement has driven us to do. The dark clouds in our minds slowly retreat, being replaced by tearful storms of hurt.
That deep, bottomless desire to go back and change the past, to prevent the spark within us from ever being lit. It tears us apart inside, nagging at our conscience and loudening the voice in our heads which harasses and mocks us for that which we cannot undo.
The ruthless, evil emotion we all carry that wants nothing more than to eat us alive, starting with the heart. It knows our weakness, and it magnifies our sense of worthlessness and self-doubt.
Searching for an escape.
Pleading to ourselves for forgiveness.
Desperation to somehow end this awful feeling.