No thought too dark for the monster,
the beast will bare its teeth.
The innocent taste of false hopes and dreams,
and the Angel of Mercy is torn limb from limb.
No point of contention.
Who am I to decide if love is just another word for weakness?
Guilt demands punishment and violence feeds on violence.
The retribution must fit the crime.
Guilt demands punishment,
violence begets violence,
when a creeping burden yearns to devour the heart
through painful memories of a dark history.
Fearfully repressed,
regretfully denied.
The Monster lays dormant below the mind.
Rise to the surface,
there's no place left to hide.
How much more hate within me will I find...?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem