A dark poem unfolding some mysterious nuances of the mind that aches when it hurts someone close.

I venerate the dark and silent lanes
Asking myself , why I hurt him again?
Yet the inner me gloats in his pain.
I nurture and feed the demons inside,
But I hurt seeing the rift in relations
growing far and wide.
I nourish myself on their tears,
I grow stronger nourishing on the fears.
I venerate the dark and silent lanes,
They bleed to death and I stay sane.
The evil in me multiplies by leaps and bound,
I can listen to all the muted shrieking sounds.
More to read
Darkness
From the Last Time
Juvenile Crime
Pic courtesy: Morguefile
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