by
Luke Teixeira 03-27-2011
Looking into my soul, full of blackness and hate,
In my conscious thoughts, this madness does not abate.
Morbid hostility, to my persecutors, my victims, one and the same.
I am judged unworthy through no fault but my own.
Never to be free again, to always be alone.
The urge to die suffers in my heart,
A moment to end the hurt before it starts...
