Scorned
You may wear the skin of an angel,
But inside your the essence of death,
I have seen into your eyes,
And tasted your bitter lies,
Seen the destruction you portray as delight,
Felt the pain of your continuous fight,
Your violence doesn’t flow from your fists,
It spouts off your twisted tongue,
Burrows deep inside of my head,
You’ve destroyed all that I am,
And still you smile and offer me your sympathy,
Be warned,
For there is nothing more powerful than I that am scorned.
wM
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