Too many times I’ve tasted
Hatred spitting from the holes
You’ve created within me.
Deliciously terrible tadpoles,
Surging within my throat;
Fearing the oblivious pit,
They’d rather hide in whispers.
Drowning me in their bitterness,
Coppery killers sapping my will.
Choking and heaving to expel them,
I am rewoven into rage myself.
Too many times the crimson rivers
Ran from me, but I’ll not do the same
To them, to all of you; just get it over with.
I’m full of the dark scarlet waters,
So partake of them or decorate my surroundings,
I care not for your motives, as long as you enjoy
Harming one other to please yourself.
I’ll heal and you’ll still be only the little person,
A thorn in the side of humanity at it’s greatest.
You are nothing, a select piece of chattel,
While I am still advancing, incomprehensible
To you and your unenlightened lot.
Almost enough to make us weaker ones cry
For you, but we need not, we’ve bleed enough.
But once I stop, half empty, devoid of half my
Humanity intact, I’m still more a man
Than you can ever hope to be,
So goodbye.
