I am, intimately familiar with just how damaging, how destructive, and how consuming hate can be. Those who know me know this and those who have known me for a very long time will remember this. Hate is all-consuming, it seeks to encompase the heart, fill the mind, and devour the soul. If allowances are made it will fill and overflow every aspect of one's being until there is nothing else and the person himself is lost. This poem is a remembrance, a warning, and perhaps a little bit of a plea. Hate has been one of the defining factors of my life and while I am free of it, having been cleansed by the boundless love of Christ, the remainder of that which I once was remains within and seeks escape. The sin of which I am capable, not that which I have done but that which I may yet do, at times haunts me and provides impetus for most desperate reprisals of faith.
Blood feeds to hurtful lust
As pain takes on pleasant guise
Wicked heart and bloody mind
Call in chilling articulation
For brutal retribution
Upon imagined slights
Dark thoughts and pressing need ever endure
Through days of light's compassionate embrace
Through pain and brilliant passion
Blissful joy and bitter sorrow
Through trial and temptation
Content repose and ambition's fearsome grasp
Hate abides unchanged
And its only cure is love
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