Hate, a Raging God Unto Its Darkened Crown

Hate, A Raging God Unto Its Darkened Crown Hate like a tightly strung guitar, waits for invisible touches that will set. Burning torches against strong wooden gate bring ashes from blazing hot sunset. Can a deep hater ever see into dark soul reflections that shatters his eyes. Blind in his diggings, like some mole immune from pitiful victim's cries! Alas! Hate shadows heart's weakened pleas black circle invading its sad plain. Birthing mighty storms upon once calm seas often its host goes completely insane! Hate, a raging god unto its darkened crown. Deep blackness that burns innocence down! Robert J. Lindley 09-26-2015