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
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