Monday, April 5, 2010

Hatred’s son

God why did he enter
When he was not invited
How come he found a map?
And all this time
Managed to hide behind it

I see him staring at my lungs,
Slowly, pointing his brand new gun,
And I begin to get terrified,
Cause in this blank room
There’s nowhere I could possibly hide!

They said his bullet could melt
And I could become immune to his hell,
If I’d only realize
That his words were twisted,
And represent nothing but lies

But suddenly,
He throws away the gun,
And as I prepare to run
He softly whispers,
That he resents being hatred’s son

So I stop,
And watch him cry angry tears,
And as he does,
I know in seconds he’ll disappear,
And leave me wonder,
When he’ll appear again,
So that he finally,
Can give my cycle an end..

3 comments:

  1. A very nice poem! If he's a son, who are mom and dad? :P

    Keep on going, you're getting better and better every time...

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  2. Thanks Arbër. Maybe his mom will show up in my future poems. You gave me material to think about :)

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  3. It is perfection at it's best, if only it was true.

    There is no way you can run, Where you only hold your tongue.

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