Blame

In the garden of our minds, blame takes root, A toxic seed that nourishes bitter fruit, It blooms with thorns and poisoned petals, A vine that entangles and settles. Like a venomous serpent coiled in the heart, Blame slithers and coils, tearing the inner self apart, It whispers in the ear, a voice of contempt, Sowing seeds of doubt and causing pain. Like a storm on a moonless night, Blame strikes like lightning, a fiery light, It scorches the earth and leaves scars, A mark of pain that spreads from afar. Blame is a beast, a ravenous beast, It devours our peace, a relentless feast, It prowls in the shadows, a lurking threat, A hungry predator we can't forget. But blame is a shadow, a momentary shade, A ghostly presence that cannot be swayed, It's a mirror reflecting our own flaws, A harsh reminder of our own applause. Uproot blame from our souls, release its grip and take control.