Darkened Nights With Lights

It is much easier to write to say I hate you
than it is to speak of love.
It is easier to burn these bridges
and laugh at your pain
than it is to listen.

I would rather waste this breath on ego
than take a stab to my pride.
There is more satisfaction
in bleeding from my self inflicted wounds
of self preservation
than there is in humility.
More self satisfied ego in sadism
than bothering to offer you my hand.

I would rather see you wither in pain,
see you loose sense of life,
see you burn in this Hell
the endless limbo of your mind,
than to bother to forgive and love you
like I do the narcissistic beast
that dwells in this guise of a creature,
this lamb with horns
that love the sight of drawn blood.

I miss things the way they were.
Before I gave in
and just used the "I" word so much.
Almost like when I had some sort of integrity.
Before things became so damnable
in the mindless repetition.
Mantras of self inflicted gun shot wounds
that hope to one day grow into the holy
disguise of guile and cunning,
the marks of clergy and the holy.

Little giggles of growing madness.
Vision of blood and terror
at just the corner of your eyes.
The mounting fear of plagues, diseases
and nuclear winter.
Delights of the serpent's eyes.
The eye candy apple of his reptilian eyes.
The blessed seduction,
burning at the center,
that gives us a leg out
at any possible moment
that we want to cave in
and bow out
to curve in
and simply indulge in the appetite.
After all,
didn't he say to eat of any tree?
Indulge in any and every fruit?
Eating and sucking apart ever greedy bite?
Didn't he say indulge every impulse?
To grapple with nothing
but with how to forge the quickest path,
from here unto thee?

Didn't you hear the child's cry of pain in the night?
The lonely place,
the home of animals
with the stench of decay?
Were there not cries of loneliness and despair
that we never recognized?
Were there not rapid responses of angels at the sight?
Would you know the honest truth of regret looking,
seeking to break past this false barrier you think is real?
Whatever happened to your thoughts
and regards of truth?

Madness posing as truth,
truth seeking to be found as is
in the midst of contradiction
and mad paradoxes that will never be heard.
But the greatest hope
is that there is preservation of the soul
and the blessed hope of home,
of love
and that you will see,
you will see soon.
See beyond the shades,
be broken so you may grow
and grow that you might live
and live with such abundance
that the additives of plastic hate
will melt
and wither
and nothing will remain except the truth.
The tears will be wiped away
and nothing you ever sought will be needed.
Every last breath of pain will find solace
in the absolute perfected beauty
that comes from eternity mixed with love.
And love that conquers every
last allurement of the hate
of the heart that bled for pain
and sought to bleed on life.
All will be new.
All renewed in life,
in light
and in love.
As it will be,
shall be
and can only be in the shades of light
that burn from here until the last
shreds of eternity.