Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Song of the Scorner

The senselessness of it all,
spiteful utterances driven with forces guttural.
Tearing the flesh, searing the soul,
sandpaper worn words destroying them whole.

Cathartic transference; a transgression,
against any and all that live contented.
Howl savagely for what you’ve scorned,
time pulls the carpet from underneath it all.

Reviler; humanity’s passion hater,
tearing down from heights unattainable--
the same old plight of sad old mind.
Jealously in the happiness you’ll never find.

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