Hatred Poem by Nicole Henson

thy days grow longer within the hour.
tears poor into this dark abyss
under thy feet.
rest, rest little one she purrs
almost putting thee to sleep.

sway, sway thy legs do seem.
no hold on earth will bring thy
a dream so horrid as she,
so vile does she seem to be.

taunting thee will be the end of her
for she does not truly see,
see what thy can be
i shall crush her bones and scatter her ashes!

now she shall see
the beauty that is thy soul
the darkness that is thy thoughts
the evil that is thy heart

and then she will scream!